ππππ ππππππ’ πππππππ ππ:@bittyBastard You could taste blood on your tongue. You could smell it. You could feel it. And by gods could you see it. Everywhere was painted a sickeningly bright red and you knew it was yours. You coughed and it was wet and sticky and you knew it was more blood. He stood over you, grinning, clawed food on your chest pushing on your ribs until you were sure they would crack. "And here you thought you could beat me, little sister." He laughed, leaning forward, making your ribs scream in agony. "You could never beat me, Izra. You know that. You can't hold territory. You are weak. You are pathetic. Not even Father could pair you off." His laughed echoed in your head, surrounding you. Endless cackling that had haunted you for years. "I'll do what Mother should have done." He stepped back and moved, grabbing your ankle, making you cry out in pain. "Ku..Kuriβ¦" You voice rasped, though you don't remember speaking. He started to drag you and you blacked out from pain. "Shh. Sleep, sister. Unlike Mother, I am merciful." Mercy is not the word I would use πΌπππππ’ πππ
βvV-hOVV yOu kNoVV? tElL IzRΛ hOVV yOu kNoVV ThIs!!!!-Vvβ
I only know what is forgoten
And it was remembered for a reason as well