Standing on the cliff, Armstrong watched, soul·lessly the smoky rift of the dark smoggy hollow; he could hear the howling wind, sounds of the wailing lost souls. He could hear the screams, the tears, nonstop pleading of the souls as they begged for his mercy not to be sent to the darkest abyss. It was a bottomless abyss, demonically dominant, the valley of damnation, a place of punishment. The only place where the rogue demons, vampires, witches, wizards, druids, and every soul he took were sent. His mind was in a higgledy-piggledy situation, the uncountable souls he had condemned these past centuries were alarmingly fun to him, the souls he sacrificed to the curator after feeding on their hearts just to quench his insatiable desires. The joy he derived tearing and ripping hearts apart, he is a tyrant, a blood-sucking demon, his soul full of darkness, a cruel murderer, his past, present, and future full of doom.When people talk about destiny, he knows what he is, the people's doom, h
Last Updated : 2023-09-18 Read more