Preface: I am going to say ahead of time, this story is dark as hell, graphic as hell, and involves attempted suicide. If that stuff bothers you, I wouldn't read it. Otherwise, I would also appreciate there not being any comments on how edgy it is, I know its emo AF, but my character just had his fiance's head sent to him in a box. That doesn't bode well for one's mood.
POV: Conf Ladveer
He had been there for hours. Exactly how long, he had no idea. Long enough for the sun to be descending from the sky, and the stars to be slowly revealing themselves. The door was still open- or rather, it was stuck open now, permanently. He couldn't remember when exactly, but at some point he had done that. He vaguely remembered kicking it. The rest of the room was in equally ravished condition, the table having his sword embedded a good foot into it. Most of the chairs were broken, as well as the book shelves having been torn down, the books scattered across the room, along with the hundreds of pages that had come free of their bindings.
He was cold. Beyond the harsh chill of the winter air that filled the home, having taken advantage of the broken door and shattered window. He was oddly still inside, no thoughts managing to form in his mind- something very unusual for Conf and his hyperactive brain. He simply felt... Empty. Nothing.
He was kneeling on the floor, his hands badly bruised from his savage assault on the furniture, and his knees from being there for so long. He did not notice though. He hadn't moved in... hours... In front of him was a wooden box, around a foot and a half long and wide, and a little more deep. He had thrown the cover through the window earlier. Dried blood coated the inside of the box, where the head of his fiance, Raven, rested. He liked to think she was... resting. It made it seem... So much more peaceful... Her skin had paled long ago, before she had even arrived, her lips a pale blue color. Her dark, curly hair was matted to the side of her head, stuck to her scalp with dried blood. And her... neck... He hadn't been able to look away since his rampage against the house. Tears had seemingly run out hours ago.
Slowly though, ever so slowly, he stood. His legs ached in protest, but he ignored them. He turned, slowly, his intentions being the first clear thing in his mind since the box had arrived. After a brief searched through the wreckage upstairs, he managed to produce a thick bundled rope, around twenty feet in length. He carefully took the rope back downstairs, going about his task methodically. Tying one end to the handrail of the stairs, and looping it over the support beam of the roof. Slowly tying the other into a hangman's noose with his bruised hands.
He stood on the table, the noose placed firmly around his neck. His eyes fixated on Raven's head in the box on the floor, he stepped off the table into the air. The rope did not snap his neck instantly, instead tightening harshly around his upper neck, pulling at the skin, burning. His lungs began to burn almost immediately as he instinctively flailed in the air, gasping for breath. His mind suddenly began to panic, kicking into overdrive. Scattered thoughts of regret flickered between images of Raven, memories of their times together. Slowly, he grew numb, his vision darkening. He vaguely noted the sound of cracking wood as he clawed at the rope around his neck. Finally, as his vision faded, there was a crack. There was a snap, then he thudded hard against the floor, collapsing in front of the box, before losing consciousness.
POV: Conf Ladveer
He was cold. Beyond the harsh chill of the winter air that filled the home, having taken advantage of the broken door and shattered window. He was oddly still inside, no thoughts managing to form in his mind- something very unusual for Conf and his hyperactive brain. He simply felt... Empty. Nothing.
He was kneeling on the floor, his hands badly bruised from his savage assault on the furniture, and his knees from being there for so long. He did not notice though. He hadn't moved in... hours... In front of him was a wooden box, around a foot and a half long and wide, and a little more deep. He had thrown the cover through the window earlier. Dried blood coated the inside of the box, where the head of his fiance, Raven, rested. He liked to think she was... resting. It made it seem... So much more peaceful... Her skin had paled long ago, before she had even arrived, her lips a pale blue color. Her dark, curly hair was matted to the side of her head, stuck to her scalp with dried blood. And her... neck... He hadn't been able to look away since his rampage against the house. Tears had seemingly run out hours ago.
Slowly though, ever so slowly, he stood. His legs ached in protest, but he ignored them. He turned, slowly, his intentions being the first clear thing in his mind since the box had arrived. After a brief searched through the wreckage upstairs, he managed to produce a thick bundled rope, around twenty feet in length. He carefully took the rope back downstairs, going about his task methodically. Tying one end to the handrail of the stairs, and looping it over the support beam of the roof. Slowly tying the other into a hangman's noose with his bruised hands.
He stood on the table, the noose placed firmly around his neck. His eyes fixated on Raven's head in the box on the floor, he stepped off the table into the air. The rope did not snap his neck instantly, instead tightening harshly around his upper neck, pulling at the skin, burning. His lungs began to burn almost immediately as he instinctively flailed in the air, gasping for breath. His mind suddenly began to panic, kicking into overdrive. Scattered thoughts of regret flickered between images of Raven, memories of their times together. Slowly, he grew numb, his vision darkening. He vaguely noted the sound of cracking wood as he clawed at the rope around his neck. Finally, as his vision faded, there was a crack. There was a snap, then he thudded hard against the floor, collapsing in front of the box, before losing consciousness.
