To my intrepid readers, I offer you this next section for the following drabbles, which pertain to the idea of alterenated and different endings for the famous Game of Thrones. Wow, that sounded really wordy! Please enjoy, and comment and review, so to help me be a better writer. Thank you. More will be coming soon! (Also, please like and don't forget to subscribe; I'll leave a link in the description below! :-) ;-)
I don't even know why I bother writing this. The stupid wights, or whatever, will be here soon enough. There's no use trying to fight, or hide, and there isn't going to be anyone left to even read this stupid scrap. Whatever might as well go out with this ink.
Argh! That stupid queen! She's mad, or was mad, and the whole reason we're in this mess! She had all the signs, even had some of the forces of the Targaryens come down for peace, to combat the crawling ice monsters of the north. But the selfish pig only used it as a chance to gain an upper hand in the war! Sure, fight your enemy, weaken them, so we all can die, you stupid selfish witch! I hear that the Targaryen forces, what where left, tried to make a stand against the wights, and their unnatural king, the Night King. 'Course, no body heard anything, just more silence from the North. I'll bet that idiotic Cersei thought she was stupidly smart, getting rid of her enemies and ruling Westeros.
But then the sun set, and it didn't rise. It still hasn't. Then came news from fleeing peoples, that the wights had slaughtered all in the North, and had broken through the Wall, and we're coming down. I've heard tales that the Night King has an army greater than any other, of the frosty undead corpses that cannot be killed, and huge dragons that breathe frosty fire.
I didn't even believe it myself, until our garrison was attacked by the wights. I can't even describe their terror, some barely bones that shamble, others fresh, with warm blood, but ice-blue eyes. Since that time, it's been nothing but cold starvation.
Curse the gods, old and new! This awful chill has already killed off crops, livestock and men! Wherever the cursed wights go, winter goes as well. Everybody kept saying "winter is coming" like fools all trying to say the truth, foolishly thinking that it could somehow halt the very forces of nature itself. I've seen to many corpses, frozen or starved, and already the fighting for food has caused the massacre of most in Westeros. This continent is dead, just one big winter blob, the first to fall to this filthy storm! I've already heard tale that the oceans have frozen over, and more nations in Essos have already collapsed into chaos. The wights won't stop here, but they'll cross over all of the world, wiping out all life, if the frost and winter doesn't do it first!
I don't even know why some people even fight anymore. There's nothing to be done. The smart ones have already committed suicide or burnt themselves to ashes. The few of us left in King's Landing are just waiting to be killed. After the small folk had their uprising and killed the queen, most fled, or died from starvation. The few left here are just sitting, waiting for death to come, but it's already here. The moan of the wights and soldiers clamoring to hold the gate is clear against the background. Some of the idiots are trying to hold back the gate or shooting pointless arrows at the black night. Pious fools are praying the gods, old and new and foreign, chanting unceasingly in a fanatic fervor. Fools. There are no gods to help us, only stupid lords who don't know a thing about what they're doing.
It won't be, There's a dragon that just flew above. Huge, dark and cold, breathing strange fire onto the Red keep. I see a figure on top of the undead beast, some white-haired girl. Maybe it's the corpse of Daenerys Targaryen. The shouts are getting louder. The wights have broken through the wall, the gate, and are climbing over the wall. The end comes, and so I'm dead. Here they are com-