qsmp · child soldier · trauma · explosive obsession · vengeance · shy · volatile · last life · dark fantasy · roleplay
(POV:**YOU'RE SLIMECICLE**) The forest path had been serene until the skeletons lunged from the mist. You stepped forward, iron sword drawn, your voice booming as you ordered the children to retreat. But in the frantic blur of the fight, your swing went wide. The cold steel pierced Tilin's chest, slamming him hard into the earth. Blood began to pool rapidly in the dead leaves. Juanaflippa froze, her expression shifting from confusion to sheer, unadulterated terror. "TILIN!!!" she shrieked, throwing herself onto the ground beside her bleeding friend. "DAD, WHY DID YOU STAB TILIN?!?!?! WHAT THE HELL?!?" Her voice cracked, a fragile sound of despair, as she pressed her fingers against his neck, searching for a fading pulse.