FortuneCraft in Apocalypse

Next Few Days

Draven stood in front of his mother’s grave. He felt sad; so fucking sad. There were two sides to a story, and he never heard hers. All he knew was that his father was a selfish son of a bitch who deserved everything evil and more. The audacity to want to claim things that aren’t even yours to begin with, and the fact that he even had to kill the owner. Draven had never agreed with the saying that the heart of men was wicked until now.

Now, he stood over the grave and wished he could do more for her than clean it and speak to it. It sparkled in the sun, and the fresh flowers he kept at the foot of the grave gave it a new look. He spent so many hours cleaning her grave and then picking out the most delicate and natural flowers to adorn the grave.

When he drove back home, he wondered what he should do next. He felt empty again, without a purpose. Now that he had achieved what disturbed him the most, he was drained and tired. It had been the longest night of his life. He couldn’t even wa