Those little things that pop into your head that you can't help but write down. I suppose it could be counted as freeform poetry-ish.
Cover by the exalted @FableWrites.
Recommended you read this with a black background on a mobile device (makes it spookier).
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The metallic hum from the clock on my stomach buzzed in my ears like an annoying teacher. A soft, orange glow emanated from the face, shifting along my pallid face with every tick. Hazy mist enveloped my brain as I struggled to remember where I was. The more and more I thought, the more I realised.
I had no idea who, or what, I am. The hazy mist turned into a voluminous fog of amnesia as I clutched my head. A thumping headache was knocking at my temples, slowly crawling towards my eyes and down my neck. The pain, probably not a headache anymore, surged throughout my body. It all congregated at one point. The clock. The luminescent clock that had just struck midnight.
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A surge of light rose up from out of the seconds hand, illuminating the room. What I saw forced a strangled gasp out of my dry, cracked lips. Sixteen onyx figures stood in front of me. There were two rows, the first filled with identical men of tall and lanky stature. Each of them carried a sword in one hand and varying compact cubes of magick in the other.
The row behind them was what intrigued me the most. On the outermost edges were two tall and eerie towers, each with matching malevolent eyes of purple centered in the center of their stone walls. Next to the towers were two men riding what seemed to be small dragons. The reptiles had a soft down lining the ridge of their spines that radiated a scarlet hue. Their riders, male and female respectively wore helmets of shadow, their faces obscured by the thick steel. The pair's armor was made of a seemingly heavy plate. Colossal claymores hung off their belts. A formidable weapon indeed.
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