Captured Tribute with the Dead

So much pain, so much blood. Everything was fuzzy, people looked like splotches blocking my vision. The yelling. It’s getting louder. I look for light, but only darkness is here now. There. Under the door. I try my hardest to lift the fallen door, but a shooting pain propels up my leg so I stop. “

I awoke to a cacophony of screams, both of excitement and of pain. I jolted up quickly, unable to control my own muscles or vocal chords, as if a spectre was holding me back with airy fingers of death.

Slowly, I awoke to see looming trees all around me, bending over me, watching. Listening. They heard the screams, they heard my screams, I was still screaming. I clamped a trembling hand down over my mouth to only realize it was closed, my lips rolled in. And then thick as velvet. The blood pooled.

I woke up, like a corpse rises from the grave, my bloodshot eyes flooded with tears. The cool air lulled my throat, dissipating the faint memory of a raging fire and loathsome vultures

The cold slowly creeped thru the defenses I put up against it. He was a silent assassin as he made his way, then finally sent shivers thru me as he plunged his glacial dagger into my body. The only thought that comforted me was the gentle warmth of my home. The tender heat from the fireplace, enveloping me in its cocoon of calmness.

It was late Tuesday, and I was up late reading an allegory when a muffled thud pulled me back to reality. I sat up still as a statue while I listened. the sound seemed to be coming from downstairs. I sprang out of bed and ran into the across the hallway.

Denny O’Callaghan woke to see bloodstains on his pillow, his bedsheets. He closed his eyes, groaned and rolled over. Maybe, he figured, he could fall back asleep. Blot out of his mind what he’d just seen. But the back of his head throbbed. He touched it and felt a bump the size of an egg, and his hair was sticky and matted there. His throat was so dry. He coughed. Blurry memories, specters nearly, from the night before flitted about in his mind’s eye. Vaguely shifting images. Incomplete. He’d been drinking tequila shots with the guys from the firehouse. Yelling. And then—nothing. He hoped if he kept his eyes closed long enough, maybe it would all go away.

Eren suddenly looked at me and cocked his head to the sided. When he did some of the hair from his long bangs got into his eyes. He blew them away before reaching out to me. Eren wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. I smile as I hugged him in response. I may need to cut his hair. I thought as I saw just how long it was. It reached all the way to the bottom of his back.

I was thinking about that girl. Her beautiful eyes and her luxurious hair. She was all I ever wanted besides being free from Pyro. I fell asleep soon afterwards.

As my opponent’s head plopped onto the sand beneath my feet, I let out a roar and lifted my sword as the crowd went wild. I reeked of sweat and had blood covering most of my body, not all of which was mine.

I woke to shouting and banging on my door. I grabbed my pocket watch from the side of my bed; it read 4 o’clock. Who would be at my door this early in the morning? I thought. My body was dragged from the bed as I trudged along to my front door.

I open my eyes and the first thing I want to do is scream. I’m flat on my back and everything seems to hurt. The trees overhead look familiar...it’s a clear night sky, almost beautiful except for the fact that this means I’ve been out cold for at least six hours. But there’s something wrong....I don’t remember what, but something happened and...My head...my God, my head hurts. And a ringing in my ears. Was there an accident? An explosion, I think. I remember Dennis screaming...but after that...I can’t remember…

Añastasia felt the cold metal of the blade press against her throat. The flat side of the knife pushed against her neck firmly, enough to make it difficult to breath. "I don't think you understand the importance of this situation. Maybe I shouldn't have been so nice, but I'm not giving you a choice here, messenger." He spun her around so he was behind her with the blade still pressed against her throat, just under her jaw. He tucked the

My slumber, for however long it was, was awoken with intense feelings of panic, which resulted in my body feeling fatigued. My tongue slivered along my parched lips and was met with the coppery taste of blood. As I gently crawled out of the tomb on to the concrete ground, I noticed three candles which dimly lit the medieval room. They were waving at me as they emitted a bitter lavender smell, an attempt to eliminate the

Blank Blood poured from my wrist, Streaming down as I pulse my fist. Swallowed the pain and tore the skin, Used my old blood stained pin. Black blood poured to the floor, Cry and screaming, slashing for more.