Knight Artorias.

He's my favorite character in Dark Souls. I love him. His armor is a glittering beacon of awesome, and his sword is the definition of badass.

It makes me so sad that I have to fight him and kill him because he was possessed by the Abyss. I gave his soul to Ciaran because the sight of it brought too much pain to hold. I wish I didn't kill him.

I bought his armor so that I can dress up like him and that his memory can live on in Lordran. Not before I killed Domhnall though, because he didn't deserve to have it and he probably dug it out of his grave to sell it. What an asshole.

I went to his grave and fought Sif. It was so sad since he helped me against Manus, but it was not as sad as losing dear Artorias. I used his soul to make Artorias' great sword. Even with its black coloring, it was still beautiful as it shined in the light of Anor Londo's fake sun. I don't use a shield when I use it, nor do I hold it with two hands, so that way my arm swings about. It's so close to looking like the poor broken arm of Artorias.

My Artorias.

I fought the Four Kings in the Abyss. I hope they were secretly shivering in fear as they saw me clad in his armor, wielding his mighty sword. I continued my quest for the Lord Souls and finally faced off against Gwyn. Every swing I swung was for Artorias. He didn't deserve to have such a strong knight like him under his command.

I chose to link the fire, because the Dark Lord ending would fully bring about the Age of Dark, which was the catalyst that led to Artorias' death.

Fuck the Age of Dark.

Fuck Kaathe.

Fuck Gwyn.

Fuck Manus and the Abyss.

And most of all, fuck me for I was the one who had to end his poor life.

Dear Artorias.

I printed a picture of Artorias that took up the entire paper. The money spent on the ink cartridges was worth it. I then framed it and put on the dresser where my TV was setup. Whenever I play Dark Souls and come upon a boss fog gate, I looked to the picture and blow a kiss to it for good luck. It works all the time.

Then I play the DLC and I live the pain all over again.

I miss him so much.

I cry and cry and cry every time I see that arena where we fight.

Why must I kill you Artorias?

Why is the world so cruel?

Now I lay in my bed crying, holding a plushie of him I stole from my friend to my chest for comfort. I hear something in the dark of my room. It sounds like the clanking of armor. I turn on my lamp.

I am shocked.

It is Artorias standing there, his arms wide open, the left one now functional. I go to him and we embrace each other in a hug. The hardness of his armor feels like a protective shell that keeps away the haunting passed playthroughs. I feel his chest rise and fall in his armor. This is not a dream. Artorias is alive and is hugging me dearly. I look up to him, staring at his shadowed face. I catch the glimpse of his amazing eyes looking down on me as they shine under his cloak. I never could imagine such awe inspiring beauty. I cry softly at the sight.

Then we kiss.

The passion was so much and over whelming that I almost fainted, but kept my nerves. I cannot let this chance slip away.

He then pushes me onto my bed and I gladly accept his unspoken proclamation. He climbs on top of me and we kiss more, the grime of battle and sweat on his lips repelled away by our undying love for each other. He slips his Giant Leech into my Symbol of Avarice and the pleasure intensifies.

He rolls me over and opens his Asylum doors to reveal his throbbing great sword. I open my Bottomless Chest wide to take him in. I roar with like the Hellkite Dragon as he penetrates my fog gate and performs thrust attacks. Our Prism Stone like screams grow as the battle goes own, my Crystal Halberd reinforcing with each thrust.

Just as I thought it couldn't get any better, he reaches his arm around my waist and wields my Sorcerer's Catalyst. He thrusts and pulls and thrusts and pulls until eventually my Catalyst shoots multiple Soul Arrows. Finally, he fills my flask with his Estus and we scream like Banshees as we collapse, tired.

We black out.

When I awake, I see him next to me, our arms wrapped around each other in an embrace. I smile at him as I recount the jolly co-operation we had last night.

I will lay next to him for a little while longer, taking in his presence.

I hear something strange and I look up. I smile at what I look at, knowing it to be true.

YOU CLIMAXED