blackwargreymonfan

 The man looms over your group, finally seeming to have cornered the lot of you. Exhausted from having run so far, you feel you lack the strength to fight back. He grips his machete handle more tightly, the black leather of his glove creaking audibly around it. With a menacing sense of intent in each step, he draws nearer to you, wasting no time before he swings his blade at the torso of the youngest child among you. But rather than a howl of pain, an inhuman squeak escapes his victim’s lips. Rather than blood, a mound of cotton stuffing bursts from their gruesome wound. You see their skin start to change, becoming paler, less... real.

The house felt colder, emptier and so much lonelier for him now. He plodded around through the hallways, into his room, the kitchen, dining room, living room over and over without aim or intent. For now, he just wanted to be wherever they weren’t. Two days had passed, though it felt like a lifetime to one so young. He felt confused, he felt afraid. More than anything he felt alone. Had he been older, or had they confronted him directly about it, perhaps it would have been easier. He could have understood; he could have talked to them about it. But at his age his whole understanding of the world had been shattered by the revelation. They

Brian was roused from his sleep by the sounds of mumbling and laughter. He nestled himself tighter under his bedsheets, pretending to be asleep. As an eight-year-old, it was only to be expected that noises in the night would unnerve him. He waited until his eyes were better adjusted to the dark before he slowly meandered his head out from under his cocoon of covers and cast his wary, frightful eyes across the room. He was relieved to see his brother, who he shared a room with, was the one making the noise. Jake was almost two years older than Brian, a kind and friendly boy that the younger of the two siblings looked up to greatly. Jake was si

It had started to rain at some point. The sky was heavy and grey, the near-absent daylight stretching thin shadows across the rough, grey pavement nearby. Trevis was shaded by a tree. Its thick canopy shielded him from the worst of the rain, but every now and then an abnormally large drop would fall rhythmically straight onto his head. He had sat in the storm for so long, his dark hair was soaked to the point of dripping. He didn’t seem to take notice. The night before had been the one where he overheard his parents' secret. Earlier that morning, he had left the house without mentioning it to either of them. It wasn't the first time he

Silently he crept through the hallway, as slowly as he could, towards the sliver of light that peeked out through the open door. His parents were not strict by any means, but being caught awake and out of bed now would mean a light scolding at the least. To such a young and timid boy as Trevis that was still enough to warrant being careful not to be caught. The dining room door was in his sight - he was determined to make it there undetected, snatch the book he had left there earlier and only then return to bed for some late reading. His parents would never have to know he was there.  A pang of guilt nearly made him abort the mission as he gr

My eyes met with another pair, tiny, yellow, and ovular, belonging to a pudgy little baby digimon that was little more than a head covered in silky black fur. I felt eyes on me from behind as well; Hideo, Strabimon and Marsmon had seemed interested in the egg even before it hatched. At any other time, I would’ve been wondering what was going through their heads. Right now all that mattered to me was the Botamon standing (sitting?) there before me. I reached a hand out, slowly brought it down, until I was touching it… Something indescribable ran through me at that moment. Some emotion I had felt before, somewhere in the past that

You set your backpack down on the dusty road, careful not to drop it. Your supplies of food and water were slowly but surely dwindling, and looking at your map only made your heart sink. You were still about a day or two's travel from the nearest town or city, and the level of detail on this area drawn in was hopelessly abysmal. Heaving a heavy sigh, you shouldered your pack and put one foot in front of the other, regretting your decision to travel the smaller, less-used road. Yes, it was safer for small parties since so few bandits ever bothered with it, but you were starting to wonder if maybe getting mugged would have been the more prefera