ALERT BEFORE READING: THIS WRITING HAS NOT BEEN EDITED. JUST FREE WRITING WHEN INSPIRED.

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In moments like this, Wren could hear the haunting murmurs of countless souls, their pleas for liberation echoing through the air. Fingers strained against chains that pulled them into the abyss of despair, yearning for a life free from ceaseless torment—an unattainable dream that filled Wren with guilt.

Her mind seethed with the frustrations of wickedness buried deep within. Desires surged to tear the flesh of the innocent and unravel the delicate fabric of the tamed balance. Whenever her skin tingled with the lure of temptation, Wren forced her mind to break free, to capture the little sanity she had left.

As her dark hair fell to the crimson peaks of her cape, it billowed with an aura of malevolence, swirling in defiance. As she advanced, hands clenched in determination her heart pounded. Pale-faced, her obsidian eyes scanned the night, absorbing the hushed shadows of the sprawling city. Wishing for solace under the shroud of darkness, a warm wind whispered around her, sending shivers down her spine. It spoke of the ominous presence lurking ahead.

– By Coushatta LaRue

Note: Writing is by me! The ART in the picture is by an AI art app called #nightcafe