abbeyvie
Legend
- The Demon Princess -
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So yeah.. I’m doing some writing, and just so you know… WRITING IS ARTWORK!! 
I’ve decided I wanted to post this story in this thread for help/feedback of the writing. I would like to warn you about this story. It is a bit violent and scary, just cause of the theme so.. here is the basics of the story:
I’ve decided I wanted to post this story in this thread for help/feedback of the writing. I would like to warn you about this story. It is a bit violent and scary, just cause of the theme so.. here is the basics of the story:
Pura is a changeling child. Her father is the demon king and wants to claim her and raise her until adolescence on her 13th birthday. Pura doesn’t understand what is happening to her as she changes into her demonic form the few weeks before. While her father begins to appear in her life, her changeling brother realizes she isn’t his real sister, and begins to threaten her with her life. Pura is scared and doesn’t know how to react to her new life, being the demon princess.
WARNING: Violence, swearing, depression. Reader Discretion Advised.
Image of Pura:
Chapter 1: Death by a Love One's Hand
Blood streamed down from my nose to the lowest point of my chin, I was shocked. Brother has never tried to hurt me before. My mouth hung open as I stared at my brother with my puffy eyes. I glanced at his fist, which was now covered in blood, as he reached for the dagger on the stoned table next to him. Tears streamed down my pale face, as he stepped forward with the silver dagger pointed straight at my heart. He slowly approached me with a wicked smile on his face.
“Little sister,” he whispered with the dagger touching the surface of my chest, “you deserve to die.” His arm thrusts forward with the silver dagger pierced through my heart.
I woke up screaming my head off. Sweat beads were running down my face. My brother, my loving caring older brother, killed me because I deserved to die. I coughed harshly feeling emotions of pain and fear; my dreams have been becoming worse the closer as the days come to my 13th birthday. I pulled my covers off of me, slowly placing my feet on the soft-white carpeting of my room. I stand and nauseously walked toward my bathroom. I was going to be sick. Why would my brother do such a thing, even in a dream? Was I that terrible of a sister? I moaned as I curled my frail little body over the toilet. I whimpered over the toilet, as I heard my bedroom door open and close softly.
“Pura,” I heard my mom whisper.
“In the bathroom,” I croaked.
She peeked her head into the bathroom with a sigh. “Another nightmare?”
As I attempted to nod, my stomach had other plans. Dizziness had taken over as I became sick over the toilet.
