09-24-2018, 12:53 AM
abomination.
moribund was the odd child-- a youth with a past seized in domestic abuse. a life etched with agony and marked by bruises. once soft hands had turned calloused. split lips and bloodied teeth. once smooth, unmarred skin was scabbed over and illustrated with outlines of scarred tissue, each bearing their own story. they had their own tale to tell.
they are the child with the two heads. forsaken, and unwanted. two heads. one failure of a living being, and there was not a day that moribund had lived through wishing that the world would show them mercy. but there was no mercy to be found. weary and broken, the siamese twins succumbed to horror of this world. they deserved nothing.
trust no one. trust only themselves.
protection was within family, but they had family no longer. thrown to the woods as soon as the apocalypse had hit. two heads. to be without them was unthinkable, given what was transpiring to the very earth. it was infected, with beings more abominable than they; rotting, sinking flesh and oozing skin with blood. they, brought back from the dead. it was incomprehensible. those beasts had no intelligence; only had the desire to consume and consume. they were all catastrophe and fiendish things eternally damaged beyond compare. they were death and decay, unnatural and wreathed in miasmic scent. zombies, they were called, and they would bring about the end of the world.
the very thought of them sent pangs of cold fear stabbing into their heart and their lungs, belly roiling. each day was spent in an overhwhelming paranoia. the type that tightened it's gnarled, wicked talons around your heart and squeezed until you saw things that weren't there and jumped at the lightest of sound. every shadow in the corner of their eye was not to be trusted.
moribund hadn't believed in monsters. they weren't real, but now they were. the boogeyman was only a fairy tale; until it wasn't.
the world had fallen to unchallenged chaos. moribund only knew of all encompassing dread. they did not fear death, but how they would die-- or rather, how they wouldn't die. a mindless beast
it was a wonder they had both survived. it was a wonder that this group had even taken them in at all.
they had only the clothes upon their beaten back and each other. moribund was nothing more than two extra mouths to feed. yet they were useful. for something, at least. they were not apart of the hunting party, yet they were still required assist in the daily chores in upkeeping the building they lived in.
moribund stalked into the fenced yard, two sets of eyes flickering upon cosette. they had not been aware that the other was here.
"what do you wait for?" came a mystified voice from only one of the heads, directed towards the other youth.
// I am,,, so so sorry for this long ass post
moribund was the odd child-- a youth with a past seized in domestic abuse. a life etched with agony and marked by bruises. once soft hands had turned calloused. split lips and bloodied teeth. once smooth, unmarred skin was scabbed over and illustrated with outlines of scarred tissue, each bearing their own story. they had their own tale to tell.
they are the child with the two heads. forsaken, and unwanted. two heads. one failure of a living being, and there was not a day that moribund had lived through wishing that the world would show them mercy. but there was no mercy to be found. weary and broken, the siamese twins succumbed to horror of this world. they deserved nothing.
trust no one. trust only themselves.
protection was within family, but they had family no longer. thrown to the woods as soon as the apocalypse had hit. two heads. to be without them was unthinkable, given what was transpiring to the very earth. it was infected, with beings more abominable than they; rotting, sinking flesh and oozing skin with blood. they, brought back from the dead. it was incomprehensible. those beasts had no intelligence; only had the desire to consume and consume. they were all catastrophe and fiendish things eternally damaged beyond compare. they were death and decay, unnatural and wreathed in miasmic scent. zombies, they were called, and they would bring about the end of the world.
the very thought of them sent pangs of cold fear stabbing into their heart and their lungs, belly roiling. each day was spent in an overhwhelming paranoia. the type that tightened it's gnarled, wicked talons around your heart and squeezed until you saw things that weren't there and jumped at the lightest of sound. every shadow in the corner of their eye was not to be trusted.
moribund hadn't believed in monsters. they weren't real, but now they were. the boogeyman was only a fairy tale; until it wasn't.
the world had fallen to unchallenged chaos. moribund only knew of all encompassing dread. they did not fear death, but how they would die-- or rather, how they wouldn't die. a mindless beast
it was a wonder they had both survived. it was a wonder that this group had even taken them in at all.
they had only the clothes upon their beaten back and each other. moribund was nothing more than two extra mouths to feed. yet they were useful. for something, at least. they were not apart of the hunting party, yet they were still required assist in the daily chores in upkeeping the building they lived in.
moribund stalked into the fenced yard, two sets of eyes flickering upon cosette. they had not been aware that the other was here.
"what do you wait for?" came a mystified voice from only one of the heads, directed towards the other youth.
// I am,,, so so sorry for this long ass post
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