Following the crimson butterflies the skeletons reach in and surrond the poor soul. Still the grunts and groans of the stereo types were heard in persuit. Now the darkness grows and feeds off of the wannabe zombies.Elumanating in red the winged creatures continue to flutter till they land on an item....again....a blade. She reaches for it and trembleing accepts it. Tears flow down as they flutter and grow in number...Conguring memories of nightmares that were real...Slowly she breaks the seal and cuts her wrist...
.....no comment......
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My dooms day diary
Rpgs and anything consisting in the paranormal make my life up. Im a writer/dreamer/artist ect. lol
Nikolas Dresdner
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" Not all Angels wear white "