Hi! Background: I wanted to make a comic, but didn’t feel like it. So, I’m writing instead! Though I MIGHT still make one. Might.
WARNING! If you are triggered by mentions of blood, death, possession(as in demonic) or war, please leave. Oh! And please, I’m not saying your idea of the afterlife isn’t true, it’s just how I’m writing it in the story.

Kyinn breathed in and out. Just another day, just another person. They walked forward, touching the banister. Eyes closed, they went up the stairs. The woman was breathing softly. Why did Kismit and Karma always make them be the one to do this? She looked so peaceful! Sighing, they raise their paw, and gleaming claws come out. A minute later, she wasn’t in the humans world anymore. She was in the spirits’ world. In Kyinns’s world.
They raise the dove, the soul, gently, not wanting to bring anymore harm. There is no blood, just the end.
Their long tail, soft features, and dilated eyes are all of a cats. They have a flower crown, bright and happy, nothing like their mood or expression. They wear a tiny symbol around their neck, a tree, and a scythe, though none is in sight. Looking at their glowing pupils in the water, looking nothing like the most feared thing on earth, the enemy of life. Or maybe that’s exactly it. Maybe there aren’t.
A brilliantly colored tree is in the background, next to a perfectly clear lake. It’s cliche, and Kyinn has seen it too many times. Walking to the roots, they curl up, in a tiny nest, surrounded by a meadow of pastel colored flowers, a dark streak on a rainbow colored glade. A fault in the picture.

Hi! I hope you enjoy this! I will make more, this is just to see if people like it!

Grief! Talks about a bit of depression! Also ack, short post


Breath. Remember to breathe, Kyinn. It’ll be alright. Your helping. No one blames you. Everyone blames you. Everyone hates you. You’re evil, you’re selfish, your vain…
They step away from the funeral, where the little girl was crying. Kyinn was a small, dark skinned child, their short beard brown hair hanging in their face. It’ll be alright. You’ve been doing this forever.
A little boy was crying, holding a child too young to know that her mother had died, and her father was paralyzed. The boy too young to understand why his parents had been hurt, out of everyone. Not even Kyinn knew why. They just went, and did their job. The job they’d been stuck with since they could remember. Since life had existed.