Hey! Welcome to KHV, you'll definitely meet a lot of other KH fans here!
I know how you feel, in my school, I feel like the only person who knows what the hell Kingdom Hearts is. Hence I was delighted when I discovered this amazing website, which I just did a couple of days ago.
Anyway, if you need a friend here, don't hesitate to PM me whatsoever.
You have to unlock the Final Episode to be able to fight the Secret Bosses, there are 2. As for getting the Ultima Weapon, you have to beat Mirage Arena's Villain Vendetta (something like that).
Thank you for criticism! This is kind of like a prologue, or something along that line. I intended not to expose too much stuff, because, well, like I said it's kind of like a prologue or a trailer. I might continue it, but school is keeping me busy. Thanks!
The sound of dreadful thunder cracks through the entire room as golden liquid trickles through the shiny marble floor. Following the golden streams, lies the life-scarring sight of a woman lying down, breathing heavily. Mortemia, the Goddess of Death itself, was on the verge of what she ruled. Her once flowing white dress was stained with golden prints, mostly focused on her chest, her dark hair that bounced with the wind was now limp, and her once conceit-filled red eyes is now filled with one thing she never thought of feeling—fear.
"Rubeus..." she muttered under her last breath, what a pathetic waste of leading it towards her very killer! "How dare you!" She struggled to sound threatening towards the merciless murderer, which she miserably failed for her voice was cracking and it sounded weak. A low, evil, cackle filled the silent room, only hearing the breaths of the Goddess herself. It was no other than Rubeus; a red-haired lad with the darkest eyes in existence.
"How dare me, indeed.†He sounded sarcastically sympathetic towards the Goddess of Death. Rubeus crouched down besides her, examining her body. "It’s quite hilarious to watch a Goddess lying on the verge of death in front of a mere mortal, yes?" Another cackle erupted in the room. He gripped harder on to the silver blade he has held the entire time, standing up and pointing it menacingly towards her. "I only seek the ichor. My Goddess, I would have asked, but I’ve known better not to, for your pride would reach the heavens. You are a pure conceited fool who deserves to go into purgatory for such sins." He gestured himself up as he raised his blade, on top of her wounded chest, and with one final move, he stabbed the Mortemia right on her chest as she gave a last gasp of breath. "Wait for Judgement Day then."
The Goddess of Death was no more.
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So, what did you think of it? This is kind of like my very first piece of original work. Others are somewhat based on something—this is all mine. It's just a little of 300 words, but I hope I did somehow entertain you or in that sort. I may continue it, but I'm not very sure.
Sometimes I have a mental argument with myself over believing that ghosts exist and not believing.
The truth is, I am complete terrified of ghosts (a sign of immaturity, right there), but I enjoy hearing stories about it, and then later regret it during a sleep-less night. I've had a few experiences (?) of them. One during my childhood.
I was sitting on one of our stair's steps, at the top. My back was leaning against railing, behind the railing is just another flight of stairs, basically making my back unreachable. I was beeping away, playing games on my mom's phone (who was completely in my sight, sitting on the couch) when I felt someone or something poke my back. I looked back only to see the flight of stairs behind me. I just shrugged it off and decided to go downstairs to see what was up. I went downstairs seeing one of my neighbours sitting on the corner of the kitchen. She told me that "she saw a man hanging on the stairs." SCARRED FOR LIFE. But I like to think it was all just a sick joke.
Then I'm glad that I somehow made you smile. Hah, thanks for compliment or whatever. I only become "immature" when it's that time of the month. If you know what I mean.