sparkofcreation
Her worn out boots were uncomfortable, because the soles had worn so thin she could feel the contours of the stones beneath her feet as she strolled through town. She didn't want to give up her old shoes though. These shoes had seen her through some hard times, just like some specific people. She adored those shoes and would defend their worth until the end, just like she would with those specific people. Those shoes still had some business to get done, just like those specific people. But unlike those specific people, those shoes would never abandon her and the plans she had for them; they would stand by what they fucking committed to. People always disappointed this lady, but her boots didn't. Feeling the stones on the paths through the village wasn't that bad.
As willful as she is, we know that darkness will win in the end, as it always does. This light-favoring world has lived a good, long life, but just as Prospit falls to Derse time and time again, Zalgo will break through. Even the powers of the Universal Guardian, who has been destined to defend both Earth and Univery, will fall to the wrath of Zalgo. Theresa is brave and eager, a seemingly worthwhile contingency, but hopeless.
The concept of God has kept some of the more religious members of our group going for some time. Even though they may not be strong, the thought that there is a divine entity watching out for them and may grant them salvation if they were to die valiantly and sinlessly, or something along those lines. However, I hadn't been religious for a long time. When I was young, I lost many people who were important to me. Then I started to lose myself. There were visions, dreams, crippling chronic pains, and, what was probably the worst part of all, I started to see this... thing wherever I went. I never figured out exactly what it was, but it was gruesome. The thought of it sends shivers down my spine. Although there may very well be a God, I learned a long time ago that he's forsaken me. Why else would this happen?
"Do you know what Plato's Allegory of the Cave is?"
"No, tell me."
"It's a metaphor. Prisoners are kept deep in a cave, chained down, facing a wall. Behind them there are puppets, and behind the puppets there is a fire. The prisoners cannot turn their heads to see themselves or the others, only straight forward at the shadows of the prisoners and of the puppets. If a prisoner can break free, he can leave to see the outside world. He will see that everything he knew before was a lie, and it will be hard for him to accept it at first. But he will keep learning with the new perspective that the daylight has given him, and possibly find true beauty and happiness with enlightenment. But he may feel sorry for those he left behind, and return to the cave, where he will know that his life before escaping was a lie that his comrades are still living. They will frown upon him for his knowledge of the outside world, and think he's crazy. The ultimate question behind all of this is whether or not ignorance really is bliss. So...
"Let me guess, once I decide there's no going back?"
"Bingo. So do you want to come with us?"
Every memory that I had of the world in the time before I almost turned fourteen seemed... ancient. In fact, everything looked ancient, even though I had been here in life several months earlier. Those familiar street signs were rusted and weathered, plazas were crumbling and miserable-looking. I hadn't seen anyone in the past few days, living, dead, or undead (because I really wouldn't be surprised if I saw zombies after what happened). The world ended just when they said it would, just as we entered into winter... December 21st was rumored to be the apocalypse... I remember that no one believed it until that day. So many people died, including myself. One hell of a birthday.
"Run. I dare you." It's suprising that a demon from the abyss of hell would have such an icy voice as his. He knows that as I am in a mortal body, I tire out so quickly... Even though I haven't taken my eyes off of him yet, I sense others of his kind closing in behind me. He knows I can't outrun three demons. Why did I have to be chosen for this stupid prophecy? Of course, there is the question of why the demons are chasing me, when I pretty much am a demon. Maybe there's more to this than I expected...
I hear a hiss behind me. Then a screech. I look back and see a demon writhing in pain on the floor, and then I see John, with a menacing-looking weapon.
"Lauren!" He yells. John actually came for me. He doesn't need to get involved, but he actually came to save me. And turns out the thirty year-old gaming nerd from the midwest actually isn't that bad of a demon slayer.
I sat on one of the many benches in the park, sipping some random fruit smoothie through a ridiculous swirly straw. I mean, what's the point of those stupid straws? The lower-class folk of Ander would never waste time or resources on mass producing such a frivolous thing. But the feeble minds of these rich, "high-class citizens," or as I prefer to call them, snobs, take such pleasure in watching what they will soon turn into their own waste go up and into their mouths.
"How can you be out here?"
"What do you mean?"
"Don't you need to be inside?"
"No?"
"Under an umbrella?"
"Nope."
"Sunglasses and a hat?"
"Why would I need those?"
"You don't need them? Aren't you a vampire?"
"Yeah... but not all of us are bothered by the sun..."
"Do you drink blood?"
"Not often, no."
"THEN HOW CAN YOU CALL YOURSELF A VAMPIRE?"
"You stay up all night then sleep all morning, shovel the weirdest crap into your mouth when it's time to eat, and sometimes speak in a primitive language of grunts and mumbles, but can still call yourself human."
"Shut up, Star."
A red crescent moon, with a beautiful young anime girl in a flowing dress reclining inside the curve. Impossible. The moon just looks like it shrinks into that crescent shape, but really it's still a sphere... Oh, I'm being rational again. Jess would be annoyed if she heard me pondering some silly anime picture that I found on the internet for its physical possibility.
I gazed out at the lights of the surviving half of the town. If I was to look towards the right, I could see the rubble and ash of the earlier blast. I still can't believe he's gone. Suddenly, I sensed a presence behind me. How did anyone get into my room?
"I know you must miss him," the person said. The voice was familiar, but not exactly comforting.
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