Haunting

Sacrificio de héroes

Version 2

Vekir, Guardian of Lamos, felt an eerie shift,
This hero, no longer the noble spirit he once 
knew.
Kneeling, she raised an ancient blade with a 
sinister lift,
A blade obtained through sacrifice, 
darkness imbued.

Her head lifted, revealing a visage stained 
with red,
Tears of sorrow mingled with blood upon her 
chin.
Vekir's voice filled with dread,
"You've changed," he whispered, "What 
have you done?"

But before his eyes, her resolve took form,
The hero, consumed by a darkness 
unknown.
As Vekir reached for the blade, a deadly 
storm,
She stood tall, offering herself as a
sacrifice, all alone.

The room trembled with a dreadful hush,
As she willingly embraced the blade's 
consuming maw.
Her essence consumed, her spirit turned to 
dust,
From the depths of Lamos, a demon did 
draw.

El sacrificio de los ecos, she emerged,
A demon born of sacrifice and pain.
Her eyes glowed with a malevolent urge,
A haunting echo of the hero that once did 
remain.

Vekir, gripped by a twisted desire,
Witnessed the transformation, his heart 
filled with dread.
As the demon before him burned like a 
funeral pyre,
The hero lost, consumed by the blade's 
dread.

In the realm of Lamos, darkness reigned 
supreme,
El sacrificio de los ecos, a demon born from 
tragedy.
Vekir's quest for power, a wretched dream,
For now, he faced a twisted manifestation of 
his apathy.
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Skin’s Veiled Vengeance

Shyeli: A man once told me to put on some clothes (menacing laugh)….So I wore his skin.

 

In the realm of shadows, where fears reside,
A chilling tale takes shape, where darkness hides.
A man, with arrogance, dared to berate,
Unleashing a venom that sealed his own fate.

“Put on some clothes,” his words unkind,
But little did he know what lay behind.
Shyeli, the enigma, with her eerie art,
Embraced his challenge, tearing his world apart.

She shed her gentle guise, a sinister ruse,
Slipping into darkness, where evil accrues.
With whispered laughter, she sought to amend,
Wearing his skin, a means to transcend.

The man’s visage became her twisted attire,
A macabre costume that fueled her fire.
She donned his essence, his identity lost,
A haunting transformation, at a dire cost.

Through the moonlit nights, she would roam,
Cloaked in the guise of the man she called home.
A chilling reminder of her vengeance uncurled,
As she taunted the wicked, making them unfurl.

Beware those who judge, with scornful intent,
For Shyeli lurks, her presence unbent.
She wears the skins of those who disdain,
Extracting retribution, their own sins to gain.

In the end, the man’s words came full circle,
A haunting echo, his fate now eternal.
For Shyeli, the avenger, remains in the fray,
A reminder that darkness will always find its way.

So heed this warning, as the night draws near,
Tread carefully, for Shyeli’s presence is clear.
Her tale of vengeance, in shadows it gleams,
A chilling reminder of the power of dreams.

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