Wow, this thread is still going?
Shitfire, it is pretty messed up, isn't it? I was going to work on the prose about how the Last Warrior has to confront the damned soul of his first wife before meeting the darkling demon that is coming to destroy the world.
In that moment, the smile faded from her face, they eyes that had sparkled, became deep wells showing nothing but anger.
"
Why not", her voice barely controlled, "I'm in hell, because of your sorry weak ass".
"Wife", the last warrior cast his eyes downward, "what you say is true. I failed you. I was supposed to be there, it was by my hand that I was supposed to relieve you of your suffering, not by yours was the knife meant. I though you didn' have the strength, I thought you".
She mocked, "You thought, you thought, you thought. Well all I could think about was the pain, hadn't I endured enough carrying that child, it and the cancer killing me quickly, turning me into this". With those words, for a moment she was again as he'd last seen her, her face convulsed from pain, her eyes mad, her body a skeleton obscene with the seven month swell of the child she'd refuse to abort. She became the nightmare, that still awoke him thirty years after he'd laid her bones to rest.
Edited by coltom, 01 August 2012 - 08:55 PM.