DLC: The Lost One Mini Game

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DLC: The Lost One Mini Game

The living fragment of death gasped as it felt something reach for it. It reached back, ephemeral claws seeking to cling to the warmth. As it moved, pain radiated from its neck, threads of fire licking its nerves for the hubris of thinking it could dare use them.Follow current novels at novelhall.com)

When it had been born, all it had known was pain. A deep voice had spoken to it, ordering it to exist, and it had opened its eyes to see a figure of black and metal standing over it.

The dark figure had given it a purpose, and a place to wait.

The dead thing made of pain had two directives: to hurt someone, and then kill them.

It hadnt, at first, understood why it must hurt and kill this someone. But then its creator, its resurrector, explained in excruciating detail. The someone was the reason that it was dead, and in pain. The someone had let this happen. The someone had been weak, and abandoned it to its fate.

It learned hatred. Every moment of pain experienced was attributed to this mythical someone, and what little sanity it had awoken with was slowly scraped away. And the master that had sought to contain it learned all too well what happens when one attempts to control fire.

It rages.

Its scraps of sanity couldnt continue to exist if the whispers stopped.

Yet, every now and then, the dreamer would still reach out to it. Sometimes for minutes at a time the creature would connect to the warmth of that bright dreamer and feel the darkness gather around her, threatening the dreamers joy. Desperately it offered the only things it had to give: rage and a tolerance for pain.

The dreamer accepted its gifts, and in return gave it something far more precious: Acceptance, and echoes of what it was like to be loved.

The dreamer was drawing near; it could tell. The more the dreamer accepted its gifts, the more it could help, the more warmth it gained.

Soon the dreamer would be with it, and it could burn the someone to ashes, and consume its beloved dreamer, so it could never be afraid-alone-lost again. It would protect the dreamer, and help it with its hatred.

A giggle stuck in its severed throat as it pictured the joy of having the dreamer within it forever.

It would finally be whole.