dokuthefoolsquid

Then darkness. Deeper than the blackness of night, so profound that he couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face. A void. In an instant, it was filled—images flashing too quickly to comprehend. Fire. Churches. Eyes—one, three, seven, eleven. Blood—red, blue, green, orange, yellow, violet, brown, black, white, gold. A black-haired man with red, pupil-less eyes, his skin torn and bleeding from every gash, impaled by a black sword through his chest. Angels. Demons. Gods. A woman, also black-haired, searching desperately. Colossal beings shackled and chained. More eyes, empty of pupils. Masks. Violet deserts. Black mountains. Syringes—countless syringes. A blonde man with red eyes, his skin peeling as a torrent of blood—golden, red, every color—poured from his eyes, ears, and mouth. Maggots swarming his body, devouring him from within.

Origins of Blood

Horror · Bloody__Potato

On a mild Wednesday around noon, a tall, slender man walked into a small bakery. Atlas felt a deep sadness as he stepped inside, knowing this was the day he would die. That very morning, he had learned of the grim fate that awaited him: facing a "Door."

Doorbound

Fantasy · Mr_Mysteries