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Author has written 1 story for Kuroshitsuji.
I love: Reading manga, watching anime, dying my hair, and writing... sometimes.
I have discovered that i can write very well when I take my time with things, but when rushes, it clan be severely lacking.
A little story I wrote in my free time but never published... just a teaser. I might one day post it. Let me know if you would be interested!
There is a legend out there, one that only a few survivors know of. It says that the Roman Empire’s last words were that ‘he would return. ‘But the hope that his reign would come soon and bring prosperity was soon lost, and people joined other countries. What of him now?
The stone room was dark. Water leaked from the corners of stones that had eroded after a long time of being unattended. The door crumbled at the hinges, a slow zephyr blew into the cold room tussling red-brown locks of hair. The lone man sat in the corner, his head facing chains that sat rusty in the corner. He had what looked like a dusty golden armor chest plate on with a ragged red cape. On his right side was a sword with black dried blood on it. His hand gripped it lightly; regardless of his coma-like state. The swords sheathe was on his left side accompanied with a torn up letter. The only words that could be deciphered were one. His right leg was arched up and he was leaning his arm on it his head bent down. A few trails of water dripped down onto his armor clearing a pathway down his chest plate and onto solid arms. His fingers twitched gaining the ability to move slowly after such a long time. His eyes were next opening slowly as he lifted his head up shakily.
He first attempted to stand up, beginning in a kneeling position and then trying to relieve his sore muscles. He failed at first falling back to the ground and then taking a moment to breathe. When he finally regained the ability to stand he looked around the room absorbing the bleak scenery. He knelt down and picked up his sword and sheathe, trembling as he did so. He placed the two objects onto his brown belt. He took a moment to just stand there leaning against the wall to catch his breath and let his muscles catch up to his movements. As he stood there, his stomach made such a loud noise that would have made even a beggar wince at the ferocity of the noise. He grasped his stomach, and spoke the first words he had in hundreds of years.
“I’m STARVED!” He licked his lips, imaging the food he had left behind. With renewed vigor, he walked over to the rusty chains that had been unscrewed from the wall. A pool of dried, crusted blood stood by them, and the man knelt down by it with a grunt, dragging his finger through someone’s dried up life energy. “Why did you leave…?” The man asked to himself, wiping the black blood onto his dark brown pants. Standing up once again he stood by the door bracing himself to open it. Gathering the courage to step outside into the world, he grasped the disintegrating handle and pulled. To his surprise, the entire door came off its hinges, leaving the man to stand there awkwardly with the door in his grasp. He winced in apology as he set it down by where he had been ‘resting’. Finally, he stepped out into the world, greeted by a devastating site.
What had once been his proud and glorious battle stand was now a field of death. Hundreds of skeletons littered the plain, swords and arrows still penetrating their hollow chests. Wagons still had horse bones attached to them. The riders of those horses looked like they had been gnawed on. He looked around and found the skeleton of his once commander. He had been decapitated, and the man could not see the head anywhere in sight. The commanders bone hand still clutched a flag pole, but the flag had long been ripped off. The live man approached the dead one, touching the shoulder of his dead commander lightly. As the skeleton fell to dust the man whispered to the air, “You did a good job Commander. Your legacy will live.” As he said this he unsheathed his sword and raised it to the air, the sunlight reflecting off of it. He yelled out to the air, “The Roman Empire will never fall!”
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