In the year 2081, every studio and industry came together to create a game of every franchise to appease the most people imaginable. They called it WTF, Worlds That Fracture. Almost immediately it became one of the most highest grossing Ultra Virtua...
Screams were heard in the darkness of the night where the full moon's light shined down on a village.
Flames erupted from rooftops as men, women, and children were dragged out of their homes by men wearing leather armor, metal shin and elbow guards, and helmets.
After some men walked out of a house, carrying an open chest filled with the residents belongings, one of them held a torch up to the thatch roof, setting it a blaze.
They villagers felt helpless as they watched their homes burn to the ground, and dragged to the center of town in a large crowd, being overseen by a large bald man with an axe.
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Hans: Keep them in check. Anyone of them get out of line, them gut 'em like a fish.
He ordered to the bandit next to him. Suddenly an old man crawled to his legs, weakly grabbing them while looking up at Hans with pleading eyes.
Old man: Please, we barely have anything. Just leave us be- AUGH!
His pleas were cut short when Hans kicked the elder in the mouth, knocking him back with a bloodied lip. Hans then walked over the man, brandishing his axe.
Hans: Or you know. If you just feel like it.
Hans gripped the axe's handle with both hands and lifted it above his head. The old man closed his eyes and raised his arms in front of his face. The townsfolk screamed and shouted, begging the barbarian to spare him.
But with a twisted smile, he brought the blade down upon the elder, silencing some of the villagers and causing them to bawl their eyes out.
Hans rested the blood covered axe on his shoulder and looked back at his underling.
Hans: But not too many. We still need some for the slavers.
He said, turning back to the villagers with a sadistic smile. The bandit nodded and strode back into town, looking for untouched houses, or maybe some foolish townsfolk trying to hide from the invaders.
Suddenly, he stopped when he heard a noise from an alley he was about to pass. He looked down the narrow path and slowly advanced down it. It was almost pitch black, and it would've been if it weren't for the moonlight barley illuminating it.
Once he was halfway down the alley, he heard the noise again, this time more clearly. It was like a whisper. A whisper that sounded like it was right behind him, and yet he could not interpret what exactly it was saying. He swiftly turned around, drawing his spear. But he saw no one. All that he saw was the dark, dank passage that he strode down.
Confused and slightly unnerved, his eyes darted from side to side, looking for the source of the whispers. Then, he heard it again, sending chills down his spine, still unsure of what he was hearing. It sounded like it came from above, and that's where he looked towards. But he only saw the sides of the rooftops of the buildings he was in between, and the Waxing Gibbeous moon above.
