[hider= End of a Character] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/SW0k2Wd.jpg?1[/img] [img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjg4LjZjYjc2ZC5VR0Z5WVd4NWVtVSwuMAA,/vtks-krueza.regular.png [/img] [sub][color=228B22]Interacting with[/color]: none[/sub][/center] [center]Health: [color=ed1c24]?/?[/color] Mana: [color=00aeef]?/?[/color][/center] [color=violet]Strength[/color]: ? [color=violet]Agility[/color]: ? [color=violet]Intelligence[/color]: ? [hr] [youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1y_b6hUXUrQ][/youtube] Truth be told, I never like my life. I hated it from deep down, from the moment that I was created. I despise it, a creation of both false and imperfection. And oh, how much hatred can a thing received? Well, I guess that this is the end of the road. But first of all, to get things out of the way, I was a fool. I never thought that such being would observed me, toiled me for their joys, and discarded when my service is no longer needed. But one thing for certain, they can never washed away my existence on this Earth. My name is Rex, Rex Wolfgang, and I exist. There could be no lies among that. I could still remembered my birthday, my family, my loves one, and those I hate. I was born in a rich family whose tradition focus on selling guns and drugs. Of course, things are illegal but who cares. As long as I got my money and not getting stabbed by it, I’m good. I got a shattered family. Father had a mistress ,and mother had a boyfriend. And despite how cliche it is, they did their jobs. They raised me instead of selling me as child labor or a slave, something that is quite common in human trafficking market. I had seen one of those kids, whose limbs were chopped off or whose eyes being punctured in order to satisfied some disgusting desire from the buyers. Women, or girls, from the age of 9 to 30 were sold as a tool to collect their eggs or to work “sex slaves.” Males deserved no fate better than his reverse gender as boys with various age are also sold. But the price are usually varied. Unlike my brother, who ask to owns a slave for his own and a whip for his twelfth birthday, I did not find any pleasure of owning such blob of flesh nor any joy in torturing a potato. Instead, I found my happiness in speed. More specifically, crashing at high speed. The tensity as you feel the shockwave, a by product of crashing, move through the muscle and then interacted with your brain. The sudden spike of momentum that make you fly off the chair, only to be strained back by the seat belt. Then, shards of glass are everywhere and cut yourself in pieces. Disgusting you might think, but I don't care. I could still remembered that day, when I was riding a [s]lamborg[color=8A2BE2]h[/color][/s] on the highway. [color=8A2BE2]And then, I crash. [/color] It was painful. The everyday therapy was a [color=8A2BE2]pain in the ass. [/color] [color=8A2BE2]I thought I could use you. [/color] And you can use me. [color=8A2BE2]I though trusted you. [/color] And you can trust in me, just like others. [color=8A2BE2]No, I think you are mistaken here. [/color] How so? [color=8A2BE2]... Because I want you to die. [/color] For what reason? [color=8A2BE2]Boredom[/color] That is it? How could you kill off your creation? Don't you understand what is the pain that we had to suffer? To be killed of like pigs. Can you understand it? We have emotion, we have thoughts, we have our sadness and grief, we have our high and low. We are you. We are who you are. How could you kill us? What give you the right to determine when and how you can kill us? Why not others? Why not Oedipus, or Vlad, or Rex? Why don't you kill them off? But you kill me? Why? Tell me. Why? . . . How does it feel to die? [color=8A2BE2] I don't know. [/color] What would happen to us when we are no longer useful? [color=8A2BE2] Discarded like wool doll. [/color] … Huh, others. Do they know this? That their fates or not theirs but belong to higher beings that we ourself called “gods"? [color=8A2BE2]No [/color] … Would their fates end like me? [color=8A2BE2] Certainly. All games and parties end. Even the universe that you think endless must end. Nothing prolong. Nothing endure. Nothing will remain. [/color] … I still really want to live, you know. I had plan. I had motive. I even planned to have a family. And now just because of your dumbass motive and you want me to die? Aren't there any others ways? Any way that may keep me alive? Tell me! I demand you to tell me. Do a duty of a father and reply me. ... I really don’t want to die. I'm afraid. It was lonely in there. That place. I don't want to go back there. I want to be remember, by someone. Not washed away like this. Please, give me some time. Give me the mercy that you once give for others when you feel down. Hold longer and I will proved my value. Just please, I really want to live. [color=8A2BE2] I am truly sorry. But I don't need your permission in the first place. You got 3 minutes. Goodbye. [/color] [/hider] [hider=Letters to all] Well, I guess this it. I am very honor to work by all of your side. It is quite odd to say this out loud, or write this out loud, but thank you. Thank you all. You can’t know how much I am proud of being a teammate. Such honor, maybe even a gift, is too much for me to say. And even in this near death moment, I feel only glimpse of afraid and that is all for you guys. Thank you. Thousands thank you. And may our paths meet in the next time. :grin: [/hider]