• WARNING: Sorta graphic I guess?


    I kill someone. With an alluring gold hilt, and obsidian black blade, I kill some one. Death watches from a silent shadow, fixated on me. The blood drops drop by drop onto the ground, shattering with thunderous crescendo. The person still stands, and Death steps forward. A bell each step. The most beautiful sound. Each step I shrink. Smaller, smaller. Drowning. In crimson water. Death reaches down. Gives me the scythe blade, but, Death is too far. My vision fades.

    My eyes open. I push the black cloak off of me, and the dark sky rains flower petals. The color red. Each hit the ground, gentle. Death watches me. Points me to there. Where? I ask with no voice. The silence pushes me down. Down through the flower ocean. A small light shimmers down from the hole. Illuminating the darkness surrounding. I fall a flower. I'm waiting at the bottom of the dark.

    I watch as I fall, and as I stand there, watching. A blade in my hand, waiting for me. I land soft like the flowers around me. And watch as the me, who is not me pushes a blade through my heart. The heart of the me is broken, explodes in a mass of blood. Me falls. Death walks to me, and offers the scythe. Me tries to take it. I touch the pommel. Death looks at me from the darkness of the hood. A light blinds me, and suddenly Death is no more.

    I stand in white. White world. White me. White clothes. Where is here? I ask with no voice. Death points dark fingers at me. What is me? I mouth wordlessly. Death points at Death. What is Death? I ask, the echo fills my head.