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"We dream, and then wake up to reality." ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀
[Given everything, only to end up with nothing but suffering]
Exactly the words that would describe how Kyle's seemingly perfect life turned into a one-eighty degree, from perfect to misery. Like a roller coaster, a ride that would put you at the top, only for it to take you down once again.
It was a lesson for him. He shouldn't take things for granted that easily.
Kyle gave out a mocking smile as he leaned against the cold wall. He doesn't want to close his eyes, knowing too well that there was a high percent chance he won't be able to open them again...forever.
The feeling of his blood slowly trickling down his shirt, tainting the white piece of silk in a shade of crimson red, was something Kyle would describe as uncomfortable. After all, the fabric that seemingly sipped his own blood was still clinging into his body, and the sticky feeling wasn't the least bit comfortable.
But who was he to complain?
He was at the verge of death's door. The only thing that needs to be done is for him to give up and close his eyes. To let himself fall into a slumber.
While it was true that there's nothing left for him to stay alive for, Kyle can't help but feel that it wasn't yet his time.
No. He just doesn't want to die yet. Not until he saw those scums begging and dying in front of him. In fact, he thought that watching them screaming in pain while going through torture was the best thing his eyes could witnessed.
But thinking about how he was powerless to begin caused his smile to widen.
"How unfair..." He weakly muttered to himself. The obvious sound of self-mocking could be heard from his voice, and the eyes that have long since turned dull became tinted with a terrifying glow, as though something unimaginable was going through his head that is mirrored by his eyes.
It wasn't long till he gets tired. Knowing the he won't hold out any longer, Kyle took the leisure to slip down the ground, laying in a very comfortable position; which is laying through his stomach while using his arms as a pillow for his head.
With a calm smile across his face, Kyle slid his eyes shut as though he was just going into a sleep.
But he knew....he won't be able to wake up from this slumber.
What wrong did he committed? Was it because of the fact that he was a noble, thus people who have ironic thinking associate him to those corrupted nobles that have been ruling them?
Kyle, too, is a victim himself!
Out of anger and frustration, dropped of tears flowed out of his eyes, eventually dropping in the smooth surface that his head was laying.
Wait.....
Kyle's mind raced through a thousands of thoughts before his hand gradually started sending the soft fabric that his body is laying. Something that to him, should be impossible. Does spirits have senses when they live their body? Or perhaps the story he reads about death held no reality, and that you could still feel things after dying?
That made no sense.
Chuckling lightly, Kyle obviously frozed at the sound of his hoarse voiced. It was kind of bearable to know that he could feel things physically, but talked with a hoarse voiced? Does spirits experience sore throat after dying and not speaking for too long?
That's absolutely absurd!
Kyle's body abruptly sat up, his blue hazy eyes started to get a little more clearer as he blink away the tears.
"Where?" He confusedly muttered, looking around at lost of what to do.
Where is he and what's happening?
Heh, perhaps he was already in the underworld. But, he couldn't think of the place 'underworld' as comfortable. After all, what kind of underworld have comfortable soft beds that could be compared to that of a royalty?
It seems like the devils were kind enough to give him a comfortable Awakening.
Well, damn. That would be what Kyle would be thinking if it weren't for the feeling of coldness, along with a beads of sweat falling down from his face.
Spirits.... don't sweat right?
Blinking, Kyle reached towards the side of his face, and lightly touched it.
The sensation of wetness that could be identified as his sweat makes him way more certain that he wasn't a spirit, nor was he in any kind of underworld or hell.
But if that was the case, then where is he, exactly?
Feeling something bubbling at his throat, Kyle immediately reach over to cover his mouth, giving out a light cough.
Because of the darkness, Kyle can't see that much. Thought it wasn't needed. Because just the wet and slightly sticky feeling in his hand was enough for him to guess what it is.
Blood.
Before, he was a scardy cat who feared many things. One of them being blood. He doesn't know why it scared him, but the sight of crimson liquid pouring out of a wound, especially a huge one, nearly scared him to death.
But now that he's dead, Kyle even feel a slight bit of emotion, except to the fact that he hates the uncomfortable feeling of the said liquid.
Deciding that being confused here and thinking like some kind of expert won't help him, Kyle pulled off the blanket off of his body and stood up. Walking towards the curtain and hoping that behind it was a window.
The placement of the window and the distance it has from the bed felt awfully familiar, but Kyle throw that thought at the back of his mind as he grasp the fabric.
Without a thought or hesitation, Kyle pulled the curtain aside.
The sunlight immediately entered through the glass window, and the see-through glass gives him enough vision of what's outside.
But.... what's this?
How come these familiar views was outside this window? This view which to his knowledge already disappeared so long ago ever since that war.
