Please, please forgive me you want to beg, but you are not really deserving of forgiveness, are you? You are a monster and the way your heart rots and falls apart with every beat, the way the butterflies in your stomach curdle and burn is only proof of that. You are a monster and so you do not beg for forgiveness- you prove yourself unworthy of it so your friends will not guilt their condemnation.

bonus donation prompts p2

-”I enjoy it,” the torture smiles “I love the tears, the gore, the smell. All of it. Hedonism in it’s finest.”

-”There’s such beauty in the world!” the hero turns, grinning widely at the villain “There is such good and beauty all around us. All I’ve ever wanted is to make more of it.”

The villain smiles tiredly at the hero. It wasn’t fair that someone so good was already doomed to die.

-”I’m gonna climb that like a tree.”

“The nymph?”

“Yeah. It’s funny, right?”

-Every morning when you wake up, you check the mirror and see something staring back at you from inside your eyes. There’s no name for it, no words to describe it, but you know who it is. And you refuse to be afraid.

-”Listen, xe is very small, and very soft. Xe likes you, for some unknown reason, so I’m sure there’s something good in you somewhere. Be good to xir, child, or i will destroy you.”

-”People like to figure that in a threesome, at least one of us is responsible. Nope- we’re all just different shades of batshit.”

-”Doesn’t that hurt.”

“Better than the pain of complacency.”

-”Somehow, I don’t think I’m going to offer the rescue you desire. I can kill you here, where you stand, or let you go and watch as something else comes along to rip you to shreds. Which one do you want.”

-”I won’t die here. I won’t.”

“You’ll continue on, then?”

“I’ll get it done.”

There is not enough time because of course there isn’t, a slurry of blame and doubt falling into the town so much like rain. There are people dying, people missing, slaughtered sheep corpses staining the graveyard. You’ve got blood caked under your nails and scales itching their way up your hip and you know, you know, you know there is something rotten here.

There is something like hatred bubbling in your gullet as you stare into the eyes of a stranger. You keep your customer service smile firmly tacked on, moving xir items through the checkout, acting as normal as you can while rage courses through your system. It doesn’t make any sense- you don’t know this person, no matter how familiar the edge of xir smile seems to be. But something inside of you, something mean and angry is telling you watch closely,  the weight of a knife you can never remember holding like a phantom in your palms