I Will Grant You My Death

Lore slumped to the ground, all her joints stiff and soiled with blood. Her hair was drenched in black goop as her head painfully tilted upwards, revealing the girl's beaten face and streaming tears. Those once beautiful green eyes had been replaced with bitterness and bloodshot gray that washes out any flicker of youthful hope that was once found within them. "P-please..." Her words desperately crawled up from her bosom, escaping her with a puff of vital oxygen. This was a plea that would take the entirety of her soul to say. Swallowing pain and surfacing black matter, she parted the pair of beautifully chapped lips adorned to her flesh. "I love him... I want him... To hold me... I need him... If you leave us apart, I will grant you my death without any hesitation. I am lifeless without him..."

Nevar's cold laugh beckoned shadows to begin their flood over the girl. They seeped up from the cement around her, clinging onto her legs with their viscous hands. "Dearest child. You are no good to me dead." The witch tilted her head, drinking in the girl's fear.

When there was no further movement, Lore wept, allowing her to bend into her bloody knees, revealing her tender and crimson spine, freshly transformed into a slab of meat. In one last gasp, she screamed his name.



This is the other side of Lore... The 'before' side... ~RosilianMockwood and I were talking about related things (sadness, death, pain, wallowing ect.) so I created that lovely tale. And later this picture.

Summary...? Nah...

Lore/Nevar/Picture/Story (c) to me

'He' (c) to ~RosilianMockwood