Who would've thought that the worst way of dying was like this. Like I am. You can burn or freeze to death, be stretched or squeezed. Poisoned, fall off an edge, or suffocate. Your throat could be sliced or ripped out, all those things. Yet, I must die in the worst way possible, alone. I write this alone. No one with me, or no one alive.
I watched all my friends die in what I thought was the worst ways possible. I was wrong; I have never felt more pain than I am in right now. This is the last story I will ever write, because when I put down this pen, my life will be over.
That is my task, to write without stopping. Not even to crack my wrist or to retrieve a new pen after it runs out of ink. If I stop writing, I will die and the memories of my friends with me. This is the curse of the Land of the Forgotten.
YOU ARE READING
Land of the Forgotten
RandomThis is a short story that i have been working for quite a while. It's full of action, mystery, and oh boy is it going to just rip the feelz right out of you. I even made a song that is based on this book. It's not finished and far from it so i'm go...
