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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Death · #2190734
3 characters, 3 irregular stories, and their constantly changing fate by a man of mystery.
Dear Father,

By the time you are reading this you have probably figured out that I am gone, I was sick and tired of you and Henos bickering about who gets what. If you two can't balance out good and evil, and make the whole world not fall into pieces. Then that duty will be my own. By now you are probably laughing about "how stupid this idea is" or " how I'm going to fail miserably." Either way, you are not stopping me, I am my own person and you can't control me... I will succeed, and you can't stop me. Hell, I can't even stop myself.

From your son,
Cadaver

Chapter 1
Marco, face pale and glum, eyes red, face sticky with tears, and skin cracking from the darkness surrounding him, as he saw a chunk of his arms fall of. He didn't even bother to cry, anymore, in fact, he couldn't since there were no tears left in his eyes. His eyes wandered, observing everyone's auras, shining, with a bright summer morning yellow, yet, his aura was a midnight black. He looked at himself, looked at the others peering out of the alleyway from which he lurked. "How are they happy?" he said.
The Endless Allyway, a place for those who the "normal" people thought the depressed should live. Out of sight, out of mind, but never truly gone. Why would anyone want to go into the streets anyway? Marco looked down the alleyway staring, almost as if he saw something. He squinted his eyes, he could see a man in black walking down the alley. As he looked closer to make out the image of the man. He could almost see what he was wearing, a black hat that concealed his eyes, black suit attire, and a long thick black cape that hugged his legs. The man came closer. Most living creatures have an aura, energy that surrounds an organism. But this man was different, for he lacked an aura entirely. The man was close, much closer than Marco thought comfortable. He stared into the streets, "I used to be there once." The man had said, "I was happy... like the other kids." Marcos' head turned towards the man curiously, "You use-used to b-be there?". "Once," the man replied, "what is your name?" Marco said grunting as a large portion of his leg slopped onto the floor. The man looked at him "My friends call me Cadaver since I have been dead to them my entire life. I wouldn't even call them friends... 'hollow shells that used to matter' are more appropriate. They always seemed more dead than me, I thought." Marcos' face was red with pain as he looked at his legs, chunks of it falling off as if a little girl had dropped her doll. If the doll was made of ground beef and smelled like mold. "Wh-what was having friends like?" He managed to say. "Everyone treated me with respect they gave me attention, it was very easy making friends thanks to my... plan." Marco looked up at Cadaver, eyes desperate, " How did you make friends?" "It's simple really" "Ho-how were you able to find hap-happiness?" A grin spawned on Cadavers face, "Don't worry, you'll find out one day"
Cadaver walked towards the bustling streets, "Wait!" Marco shouted, "Don't leave!" Marco bent and distorted his leg trying to get up and run. He chased and ran as he felt like dying because of the excruciating pain in his legs. "Please don't leave!" Cadaver getting farther and farther and farther away. Marco tripped as his legs failed to run anymore. He watched, as Cadaver disappeared from existence, almost looking as if he had never existed. Marco, suddenly realizing that he was no longer in the alley, he gazed, as people trampled his legs causing him more discomfort. He couldn't hold it, he couldn't take it... He started to cry soft cries as he stared, at how destroyed his body was. There was no hope, No hope at all. No one would help a mangled boy like him. An obligation, a burden, nothing more than a chewed piece of gum that sticks to your shoe. Not now, or ever.
He took his shaking, decrepit hands and tried rubbing the tears and snot off of his face, only to smear them, along with pieces of rotting flesh. No one came, and no one was coming. He lied down on the streets admitting defeat. He had lost. No one would come to save him... "Oh my god! Are you okay?" Marco looked up. To his surprise, a girl with bright amber eyes and golden hair looked at him concerned. The girl put a hand over here mouth "What happened to your legs?" Marco stared trying to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth. "Here, I'll take you to a hospital." As she stated lugging Marco down the streets, she started talking in a calm peaceful voice to try to sooth Marco, "Hey, you're going to be okay, okay?" Marco tried mouthing the words, but his legs reminded him that he was still in pain. The girl, looking as if she ran out of things to say said, "My name is Annie... I hope we can be friends!" Marco, legs, and arms screaming, tired droopy black eyes, stomach aching for food, mind confused on what to think and what to feel. Even through all of this, Marco managed to widen his cracked lips into a smile.
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