GUESS WHAT
YOU GUYS ARE GETTING A BONUS CHAPTER
THIS IS SEPARATE FROM THE CHAPTER BOMB, AND JUST SOMETHING THAT I THOUVHT ID ADD IN, SO ENJOY YOU BASTARDS AND HEADS UP CAUSE I LOVE ALL OF YOU
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Red.
Everything was red.
Nothing was right-
Everything needed to be gone.
It was agony.
Staring forward at people, seeing nothing but an enemy- seeing nothing but false blood.
Voices paraded in his head- swimming left and right, from one side of his mind to the other, swaying the metaphorical boat so much that there was no buoyancy in his mind.
The ship was sunk.
Falling deeper and deeper into the red depths of his mind, everyone on board chanting and parading, and loving the fact that right now?
He wanted blood just as much as them.
Fuck.
Techno could barely focus.
Did he just hit someone's house??
Fuck-
He thinks he did.
Retirement arc.
What happened to that?
This was a small stealth mission- where he was supposed to dig around for his....
Kinda friend....
Friend he wasn't sure felt comfortable around him-
Friend he sometimes looked at and felt the overwhelming need to just...
To just-
Fuck
Red-
He pinched at his nose-
Pink braid swinging as he paused his movements.
Blurry silhouettes surrounded him, sounds coming from them, but not sounds he could understand.
All he could understand was red.
Blood.
Violence.
Take it.
Breathe it.
Let it sink into his bones.
Let it tear him asunder and peice his marrow back together with even more red.
Did he just kill someone?
No?
Then why was his sword buried in something?
Why did he hear screams-
The voices grew happier- swelling with their whispers and yells, unifying and screaming out for their god.
Whoever he hit is alive.
That much he knows.
And then, the red burnt out, and all at once he felt drained.
His whole body sagged, nearly tumbling over-
YOU ARE READING
Swallow Your Affection
RomanceYou were a recruit, asked to join a rebellion you didn't believe in- to fight against people you didn't know- all the while carrying around the knowledge and the secret that... You couldn't die. Not without extra steps. . . . . . .