El Deseo Mio Es Volar, Lejos De Aqui[Invite Only] - Forums

Por um escritor misterioso

Last updated 11 fevereiro 2025

El Deseo Mio Es Volar, Lejos De Aqui[Invite Only] - Forums

Mala Como Quiera Alas, here I am a shadow of my former self. What a fitting way to die for a person whom wished for nothing more than to fly. My wings have been stripped from me, and my limbs have been taken away along with them. All that is left is a truncated body smeared in its own blood. For it were not for the cloth covering her naked body, her appearance would have been far worse than it appeared at first glance. But would good of a narrator would I be if I continue this story without properly introducing the factors that led to this disastrous event we are witnessing now? Very well then, since you won’t seem to have it any other way, on with it then! Anastasia, what a deceptive name that vasto lorde dares to have. The nerve of her, treading the fields of Hueco Mundo as if it were her own. Feeding upon countless hollow in order to satiate her ever increasing appetite. Its sickening really. We will show her, we will show her what happens when you push everyone else off to the side and claim a throne that is wrongfully yours. Throughout her career in Hueco Mundo, Anastasia quickly made a name for herself by steam rolling over any defiance. She never accepted anyone who countered her point of view or foolishly threaten to consume her. As a result, her evolution was solitary. Not once did she share companionship with other hollows, nor did she bother learning the names of her consumed enemies. Yet she found herself at her weakest, when everything was stripped from her, down to her very limbs. She was attacked by a swarm of thousands of adjuchas class hollow whom defied her after she forcibly took over the Menos Forest, or tried to at least. The Menos Forest was one of the areas in Hueco Mundo that held no rule, and as a result many bands of hollows formed small coalitions. These coalitions would often clash, spanning bloody wars across the forest. No one really cared for Las Noches, because after Aizen’s escape, everyone went back into survival mode. That is until another ruler appeared. To the few that heard of him, his name is Muerte, and it was rumored that he ruled Las Noches with an iron fist. Oh how Anastasia would have loved to challenge him head on, but without an army, her resistance would be futile. So the next best thing would be for her to assemble a legion of her own, and march to Las Noches for a surprise attack. However, it was her whom would be surprised when she approached a four man cell of adjuchas. “Bad place to be walking around on your own missy,” the apparent leader of the group informed her. “Oh?” she stated softly, as a curved blade began to materialize on her right arm, stretching down to her ankle. A second later, his head was impaled by her arm blade, right in between the eyes as the body twitched in pain. The other adjuchas stared in horror, as she bit into the left side of the hollow’s cheek, ripping the flesh with her teeth as blood trickled down her chin. “You taste fowl,” she said after spitting out the piece of flesh she chewed briefly. She turned the blade counter clockwise from its vertical position, until the blade was flat, still inside the hollow’s head. She swung her arm out to the right as the side of his head fell to the floor and disintegrated along with his body. Her stare focused on the remaining hollow, one of which pulled out what may have a horn. He blew hard into it as his comrades were each torn to shreds by Anastasia. Only he remained, and as her blade sunk into his chest, the entire forest illuminated with countless crimson eyes. “I understand. It was a trap. Seems I underestimated that bastard,” she stated as her wings stretched out at either side of her. Each segment of the wing shone a bright violet color, until they each fire a pulsating shot into the air. “Aguacero!” The first wave perished instantly, but then the others came, and more after that. One by one, they fell, but they wore her out. She could barely maintain her sanity after 40 minutes of battle, and succumbed to the pressure when under the sand two hands shot up and grappled her legs. Caught in the suspense, she didn’t realize two other beings emerged from behind her and yanked her wings off. The resulting scream from the pain must’ve been heard all the way to Las Noches. Her legs followed the same fate, both severed at the knee. Her body was motionless, and although she couldn’t move, she still managed to dig her arm blade into the sand, killing her enemy from below. Her arm was in too deep, and left her wide open for an attack. Another hollow came and sunk its claws into her arm blade at the elbow. She clutched its neck with her free hand, choking the hollow to death. Unfortunately, his death came at the expense of her arm, and soon she found herself with only one arm left. Fatigue kicked in, and so did prolonged blood loss. Her vision was blurry and she could barely tell what was going on around her. It wasn’t until after a few seconds that she realized a voice was calling out to her. “This really is such a pity,” a final humanoid type hollow stated as he grabbed her left arm, slightly lifting up her body. He must’ve been a fraccion at best, because even in her state she didn’t sense a powerful presence from him. “The Queen Bee fell victim to the swarm. How ironic,” he said malevolently as her arm was sawed off at the elbow. He took off his jacket and kicked her on the back, tossing his jacket atop her blood soaked corpse. He would then take his leave, and she would be left alone, head first buried in the sand. She rolled to her back with what little strength remained. She couldn’t even look into the ceiling because her eyes were filled with sand. Her tears hardened the sand as they forcibly ran down her cheeks. It was truly a detestable sight to any passerby. ”This is how it ends? In misery? Is this what humans call atoning for your sins? I have nothing to atone for. I owe nothing to nobody. I don’t want to die. I don’t deserve to die, not yet. “Not yet…please….not yet….not until I can fly again,” she whispered as her voice trembled under the weight of the pain.