When I first opened my eyes, the last thing I expected to find was my soul lying at the feet of a F.E.A.R Shadow. The sun beat down overhead; my BVB star rosary was still tightly clutched in my hand, and it seemed as though my war paint was still smeared across my cheeks for the Shadow sneered down at me with sheer disgust.
Of course. I was a Wild One, a rebel. It was his job to squash the defiance out of me. And he would go to whatever lengths necessary to do so. Even if it meant killing me.
I weakly lifted my arms. Not that it mattered because he slammed down his staff anyways and crushed me under it. A small pool of blood started to trickle from the wound. As the Shadow disappeared, more blood spilled from the tear the longer I lay there.
The pain soon became too much. And so I closed my eyes and fell unconscious.