#flees

Warning: Death - Dead body - Mention of blood

The heavens weep and tears of translucent water rains upon the world as the earth is cleaved by claw and arm of mechanical splendour. Warped and twisted it yields before the behemoth as mist and splashing darkness clings but releases its hold as wings of cloth and kaleidoscope beat and shocks the worlds underneath. Cold is the air and grey are the clouds, yet distant sunlight peeks through and casts strokes of white and pale gold.

At one it all comes to a halt, wind softening, thunder quieting, music screeching before ending.

And he breathes.

Ah... aha...

His face is slack, body cold and yet all too warm; pulse wrecking him from within. Waterfalls are upon his visage, yet he does not look away for the light no longer sings its woe upon an unfortunate shadow.

“Free... Ahaha… the sun…. the clouds…” He says upon a breath; deep and filling in his chest. Beautiful is the evening of this world he’d never been meant to see, and the very air that surrounds him contorts and twists the image of perception, yet it yields to his presence even as it rejects it.

“My dear…” he speaks, ignoring the distant wails and booming shockwaves of screams eternal, the noise no longer bothering him as he places elongated fingers near his chest, urging the SOUL that is you to emerge so you may bask in his glory. Fond are the eyes which looks down upon you, puppet face twisted in grievous joy as a gentle claw strokes your glowing side. “You can see it… can’t you?” he asks, though you are as silent as the grave. And such it had been ever since he tore you from your body, your lamentations still echoing within the deepest pits of his mind.

“Spamton!! Please, stop—AAAHH! STOP!! SPAMTON PLEASE!!!”

Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. We will be free together, I promise! I cannot speak with my voice. Forgive me. I love you! Forgive me! I love you! I love you!

“PLEASE!! SPAMTON! PLEASE! PLEASE STOP—AAAAAAHH!!!! STOP!!! STOP!!! STOP!!!”

And Spamton wept as the threads which kept your SOUL ensnared to your body snapped one by one, your limbs twitching with each fracture until you finally fell limp; inhales choked and stammering until they ceased completely. And then… there was silence.

“Can you hear me?” he asks, smile straining even as fondness remains in his gaze. “Nothing halts my speech anymore. You always said how much you liked my voice. Well, here it is!” He cheered, thunder rolling, pearly rain quietly beginning their descent. Spamton doesn’t look away from you, though his fingers curl about your form. “My love…?” he calls, black gums showing as his smile widens in maddened glee though his brows start to frown. “We’re free.”

Tenderly, he brings you closer to his face, the rain gentle as it trickles over his form, but he’s unable to appreciate it. The world is so quiet even as thunder rolls overhead and the wind kiss at his head. A few strands of black hair fall over his face, and Spamton blinks, seeing nothing but your soft glow.

“Talk to me,” he begs, tears mingling with rainwater. “Please… say something.”

You are quiet.

The wail upon the faraway distance draws near, coming in waves as the air booms and thunder crackles. The clouds fall like a raging sea, ensnaring all and everything, and daylight yields to the storm’s command.

Nothing can touch Spamton. Nothing can harm him, the green strings which had controlled him hanging and swaying in the wind like a cloak behind him.

. . .

Something tugs at the strings.

Spamton turns his head, looking back and underneath, eyes wide as his breath stalls in his throat. Entangled at the end of the strings hangs a familiar form, broken and bloodied, beautiful in its decay. It looks up at him, face pale and dead, eyes glassy and cast with fog. The mouth smiles, black bile pouring between soft lips which had kissed Spamton so sweetly only a day ago.

You’re smiling at him, fingers twitching towards him, but you’re caught in his strings, and you cannot move. Black tears trickle from your eyes, and your expression is so gentle, even in death. You wish to reach him… but you can’t.

Spamton begins to laugh, the chuckles arising from his chest as something within him tickles, and your body disappears with the flashing of lightning. And thus, he must weep in tandem to his hysterics, curling your SOUL closer to his chest as he looks upon the black and grey clouds, stunning in their rage. He screams, his mind tearing, his heart shattering, his hands trembling around your SOUL.

You remain silent.

This is glasses holder, my new year present for family member:

It made of plastic form, printed by 3D printer and covered with artificial leather on the outside and fleece on the inside. I found the fabric in the photo with the markings on an old bag that was about to be thrown away.

Some parts of "how it's done":

I made some kind of stuff for the first time, so I made several mistakes... But final version good enough. I should say sorry for blur, 'cause I always have a creative chaos on my table...

Andddddd what was this gay thought ;staaaaare;