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𝙃𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙄𝙏.
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▬▬▬▬𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐄.
MAN EATER! ACT: 000
ᴾᴿᴼᴸᴼᴳᵁᴱ: ᶠᴱᴱᴸᴵᴺᴳ ᴼᶠ ᴰᴱᴬᵀᴴ
SO THIS IS THE FEELING OF DEATH.
You dully acknowledge, Staring mindlessly at the Young demon slayer who was staring down at your decapitated head with nothing but hatred behind her dull eyes.
Experiencing the sensation of death while going numb from the wisteria poison injected throughout your veins is like traversing through a desolate landscape, where the air hangs heavy with a palpable emptiness.
It's as though the world around you fades into a distant haze, and you find yourself detached from the pulse of life. In this state, there's a profound sense of stillness, where even the beating of your own cold heart feels muted, drowned out by the vastness of nothingness.
It's a paradoxical feeling of being simultaneously present and absent, where the prospect of death looms as a distant specter, yet its impact is softened by the numbing embrace of detachment. In this eerie calm, emotions lie dormant, leaving behind an eerie echo of existence tinged with a sense of surreal tranquility.
I feel useless.
I hate this feeling.
What am i feeling?
Are these the emotions she was talking about?
Get rid of them. I feel frustrated with the mere thoughts of it. I despise feeling like this. I hate it.
Hate it. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it.
Your unvoiced hatred didn't go unnoticed by the young girl in front of you, She could recognize that shear emotion swirling behind your rainbow-ed colored eyes.
With her last words it echoed throughout the entire place to which it taunted you oh so slightly. "Go to hell."
Go to hell? There is no such thing as hell you stupid naive girl.
Her dull purple eyes were the last thing you saw before everything turned into pitch-darkness.
