Literature
Inkspill C2: The Dead Hold Grudges - part II
A young man cloaked in dark robes towered over me, looking like some kind of (dare I say it) samurai wannabe, or at least something Japanese in origin. I wasn’t entirely sure, and I honestly didn’t entirely care, as I was more focused on that blade, the blade used to slay that boy’s soul. Matching his strange aesthetic, the murder weapon in question was a dull katana, though hardly dull in sheen or sharpness as it was as pale as bone, and just proved its efficiency. No, I just found the damn things boring and was thoroughly unimpressed by this display of him sheathing the sword. To think that child that plagued me was sl