I have been dared by a friend to do a 100 themes challenge. I will update once a day, unless I'm not able to get on the computer. The title of each chapter shall be the theme, and I shall also put it down

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&

Alone

He felt so alone since she was gone. He felt empty, just a shell without anything within.

Yes she had been gone for years, yet the few people who mourned her loss had long since gotten over it… except for him.

He couldn't get over her, it was impossible for him to forget her. The memory was still so vivid, like it had just happened.

Every time he closed his eyes, the scene played out before him.

The flash of a sword, the assassin's grinning face, Ranfan striking at the assassin, the sword slicing, the sound of tearing flesh, the surprised look on Ranfan's face as she looked down at the sword in her chest, the thump of her body as she hit the ground.

Ling had killed that assassin, and had made it a slow death, tears running down his cheeks the whole time.

Ranfan had been given a proper funeral, though their friends from Amestris missed it. They came later and paid their respects while offering Ling condolences.

He shrugged them off; sympathy wouldn't bring her back to him.

He woke in a cold sweat yet again, Ranfan haunted his dreams haunted his waking world, he couldn't do this anymore.

He rose from bed and grabbed his sword from his nightstand. The sword shined in the moonlight.

His body was found the next morning, toppled backward onto the bed, soaked with blood. His sword was still in his hand.

Ling was buried next to the woman he loved, and he was mourned for years just as she was, and just as she had been forgotten, so was he.