"I lied, I never ran out of paint, I just wanted to continue painting forever."
The life of a man named Lacan and countless others.

"She was so beautiful. Her lightly brown hair that caught the sun as she tossed her hair back. Her eyes, crystalline and clear, they had such compassion in them, it made you feel as if nothing could go wrong when she was around."

These were the last thoughts of Lacan as he mouthed the words, " RAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGG STTTTTTTTTTTTOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRM!!!!" And the world was torn asunder.



For those thinking wtf? This is a prologue im doing for this story im gonna try write. Bear with me if it sucks.