heeyyyyy friends. I was bored so I decided to write a story based off a crappy video series I made (and deleted) called Bullworth's Wolf. I'll probably end up abandoning it like the original series anyway, but I'll write as much of it as I feel like, I guess. I don't really have a plot line, so I'm basically just making stuff up as I go, so it'll probably still be crappy.
here's the wattpad link if you want to follow it from there i guess:
https://www.wattpad.com/story/61685156-cruther's-wolfADAM: PROLOGUE“There’s no need to be afraid, Adam. I am the Messiah.”My flesh stiffened against my bones, squeezing blood to my head and racing thoughts constricting my brain. The entirety of my existence was a mesh, a binding of crying trees and fading songbirds, all of it waxing and waning within a blanket of wispy gray. Yet there was no denying the rhythmical, beast-like sound calling out; it poisoned the serene ignorance I held inside for so long.
“I have come here to save you, my son. Recognize my voice. Disclose your sterile heart.” I wanted to breathe, but the intangible tendrils that bound me reminded me that I had no lungs. Next, I wanted to adjust to the sky.
“I have found an immaculate being in your world. In coming time, all Things will perish.”It was then that I discovered my left half. It was completely indistinguishable from my right. I opened my mouth, and a cascade of disturbing liquids flew off into the smoke. Cold slime lensed my eyes.
“Accept me as your Savior, and I will assure that you will be protected from the blinding onslaught.”The world suddenly went dark. There was only me.
Only me.
A shrill noise broke off my dream. Flailing my arm around until my room was silent once again, I tried to lift my body out of the surrounding sheets, only to fall back into the pit of comfort. This was the same struggle I had every morning. No big deal: just ignore the urge to give in, get up, stretch. A monotone voice told me to get dressed, go downstairs and head to the cafeteria for breakfast. Almost everything I did felt instinctual.
Without tripping down the steep, sweat-mongering staircase like yesterday, I traversed down the expressionless halls until I was forced to make eye contact with some greasy-looking guy by the exit.
His face twisted and his eyes squinted. “What are you doing?”
I responded with a grunt.
“Dude, didn’t you hear? School’s canceled, and we’re not allowed outside.”
My hazy expression became sharp.
“Someone was killed.”
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