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#ApprovedAU

"See this flower? The brown petals are curled and stiff. They have been cracked and dry for a while now. Its stem and leaves are drooped. At one point, it had managed to grow at one point in time. But now it has to die away from its siblings, who flourished and bloomed. Somewhere in a paridise that never existed. Sad, is it not? Well, think of life like that. Its just not fair sometimes kid...so get over it."

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THE STORY:

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Long ago, there was a place that flourished with life and death. This place was called the rift. The rift is a

place you go after you die - if you are capable of being a reaper. A reaper is an animal or human that reaps

souls; determining if you go to heaven or hell. If you had a good life, you get to go to heaven. On the other

hand, if your decisions in life dont meet good qualities; you are sent to hell. Sense the ruler of the rift known

as Shiva wanted every other reaper there to feel comfortable, she decided to give the place a new look, sense

almost everyone there was going to spend the rest of eternity there. Vines with diffrent varietys of flowers

speckled the walls. A small canol of sharp, greyish crystals were piled out along it, trailing towards almost

knowhere. Fake sunlight peeked out time to time; It was perfect! basically paridise for a few reapers. All

reapers in the rift never beleived in second chances, probrably because they all never needed any. They all

were stuck there, to do there job. And everyone there tended to keep it that way. Even Shiva agreed on that

term; but it wasn't long until the unthinkable happened.. It was said that one reaper went rouge. The rouge

was stealing souls. Another loyal reaper of the Rift caught the rouge in the act; leading towards the rouge

attacking the reaper, striking him with great force. The reaper's wounds were bleeding, but slowly, flowers

started to bloom into their wounds. The reaper vanished, turning into nothing but a pile of flowers and blood.

Death to a reaper hadn't been possible until then. That rouge had proven, that it was possible. The rouge was

exiled, and was then nicked named Thorn, never to be called their old name ever again as punishment. Thorns

are unhelpful, painful, and cruel. Perfect to describe an un-trustworthy rouge. After that fatal day, the

rift became full of cautious reapers. No one wanted to die the way HE did. They never knew what happened

to his soul anyways. All they knew, was that his body had BLOOMED with life, and then death. Strange, is it

not? We all think of flowers as beauty, and full of life. But they can be the opposite, as well. Cold, brittle,

and Dead.

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REF SHEETS:

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CHAPTERS:

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Prolouge

Chapter One

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