My Desolation

Oliver's dreams become their own world entirely, but soon it starts to crash. With the help of the so-called ruler, Deso, and some other natives to the world, will he be able to save his dreams along with his crumbling reality?


1. Night 1

        I stood there quietly, like a statue standing upon a hill, overlooking the ruins of an ancient secret. Everything was quiet, calm, and dark. The pale moonlight was spread out on the water, gently laying on it as a blanket to hide the clear waters of the hissing sea. Mother moon cradled the childish water, keeping it calm, but still would watch as the waves clawed at the shore. I gave a slight sigh, letting my breath be seen in the chilly air.


        There was never a certain and perfect season there. Only sadness. No summer, winter, or autumn. The air was always cold, the ground soaked with dew, and the sand steaming off hate. Off in the distance on an island that could be seen from the shore was a city. The looming buildings perched in the sky would make shadows on the water. Small candles would float gently around in the breeze around the establishments.


This was my true home.


This was the place I belonged.


        The city had no name. Never did and never will I bet. Nothing really had a name in this strange land. The only thing that did was the ruler. His name made no sense to me, but nothing ever would while I stayed here for a simple time limit of 8 hours. Sometimes more, sometimes less. This man, when not whispering deadly things in my ear, would ensconce himself on his throne. His name scared me a bit since figuring out the meaning behind it.


His name was Deso.


But that was just in short terms. His real name, was Desolation.


        I didn't mind him. Although he was always smoking so the smell of nicotine reeked off of him. He was a ginger, but not an ordinary one. His hair was a bright red, like a firetruck. His clothes consisted of a red shirt, black tie, and a tattered black trench coat that he would button up all the way. Along his neck, he had a thick choker with an symbol on it that I could never quite read. He wore black pants and black, shiny shoes. But everywhere, he was splattered with blood.


"What'cha thinkin' about?"


        I spun around, only to look up and see the tall figure of Deso, standing directly behind me.





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