Evil spirits lined up to see him drink from the cup their leader had given him. To them, he had no name. He would get it the moment he became one of them, mere spirits of the dead. The teenager tipped his glass up to his lips, jaw quivering. The spirits shuffled in delight and impatiens. The boy drank from the cup, his face twisting when he tasted the bile and sour liquid, but he kept drinking, determined to become one of the evil spirits.
The empty glass shook in his hand. Blood started dripping from his mouth, flowing down his chin. A snake-like tongue stuck out from his mouth - one that was not familiar to the boy, He choked on it, it’s long length clogging his mouth. The blood poured from his nose, staining his pale lips.
He fell to the ground, crouching as he gagged. The evil spirits watched greedily as he retched and clawed at his throat, but nothing could help him now. A feeling of hopelessness crept over him. He was trapped, bleeding. One of the spirits stepped up to him, squatted, and took the last breath of the boy for his own. The boy’s spirit came up from his lifeless body, and joined the other spirits with a new feeling. Greed. Hunger. And recklessness.
Author Notes: One of my depression stories. You know how sometimes you have to write to get rid of crazy emotions? Any-who, please comment and review. Message me anytime. Thanks for the support thus far! -Kate