1 The Beginning of the End (Prologue)
A malevolent red mist fills the once blue sky of the ancient kingdom of Mythril. The once beautiful lush green trees shrivel up and die. The clear blue water darkens in color, like poison in a glass. Suddenly, a dark and omniscient shadow appears from the mist and a cruel vampiric man walks out with a sadistic grin on his heartless face as if he could torture then kill with just a single glance.
His slick black hair is combed down the back of his head the way you usually would imagine a vampire's hair. His eyes don't match, one is blood red crimson color while the other is silver like the morning blue sky. He wears an ornate-style robe that appears to bear symbols as old as existence itself, maybe even older.
This man has power in this realm despite never seeing nor hearing of them before. I take a step away from him, as he approaches me. I feel like turning and running, but I cannot move, due to some unseen force holding me hostage. The demonic being is now right in front of me with the cruelest of expressions on his sadistic face.
The demon never says a word but stares at me maliciously as if debating on how to murder me. Suddenly, he draws a dark sword and gently runs it across my neck, carefully making sure it doesn't kill me.
"Child, I can sense your fear, but you do not need to be nervous, because you will be dead soon, and death, unlike life, is eternal. Ah, how wonderful death is, an eternal prison to those who exited the sanctuary of life. A prison with no hope or way of escape. How terrifyingly beautiful death is." He states this with such intense malice that it makes my skin crawl and my insides twist in knots.
"I cannot let you free, because I can't risk even a pest like you spoiling my presence to anyone." He removes his blade from my neck and runs it swiftly through my chest. He stares into my eyes with a vile and insufferable gaze, glowing with the pure and malevolent shine love of pain like a violent blazing fire, uncontrolled by the forces of logic and reason.
Slowly my vision starts to fade away into the unknown abyss, and no matter what I attempt, the grasp of my strained conscience gradually moves out of grasp like a word that is right on the tip of your tongue but no matter what you do you cannot seem to recall it, and the longer you struggle the worse it gets.
My body starts to feel colder and colder, my body heat escaping me. And the man removes his blade from my chest, wipes it down with a blood-stained neckerchief, and leaves me to die alone. Within minutes everything is gone, all pain resolved into the peacefulness of the void, the embodiment of nothingness. Suddenly my remaining conscience is seized by an unseen hand, and everything I knew is gone as if it never existed, to begin with.
