AN: Hello, reader! This story is one of my first attempts at writing a fanfic, and it's inspired mainly by the stories "The Terran Rebirth," "The Zerg Rebirth," and "The Protoss Rebirth," by Writer Frantic. I want to shout out to every fanfiction author out there because I finally get how hard writing an original story is, and I think all ya'll are amazing.
Please leave a review—pour your heart out and tell me anything you want to. I promise that if I keep writing and getting feedback, I will craft something amazing someday. Thanks!
StarCraft Is owned by Blizzard.
Prologue:
He raced through the hallways, jumping over desks, tables, and trashcans. Two teachers and a police officer chased after him, but the harder they chased, the harder he sprinted.
The officer threatened to arrest him, but he kept going, a gleeful expression apparent on his face.
After turning a few corners, he slipped into a bathroom and lost his pursuers. He quickly pulled out a syringe and stabbed it into his elbow, letting out a sigh of relief after he felt certain...urges dissipate.
Gasp. Exhale. That hit the spot. The chemicals drained into his body, inducing neurons to rapidly fire out pleasure-inducing signals. He leaned against the wall and tilted his head back, letting the wave of ecstasy wash over him.
Suddenly, he seized up. His lips began to tremble as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Whatever he was feeling, he didn't want it to stop. Wave after wave of pleasure overcame him until his brain shut done, followed by his lungs.
A few seconds later, he was gone.
...
It was a cold and rainy day; too cold, in fact, for an old woman to be wandering the streets alone.
Especially if that woman was blind.
Once upon a time, that woman was renowned for her beauty and intelligence. But those days were long gone. Now she's disabled and homely, with no one to care for her.
A group of young boys came by and knocked her over. They quickly searched through her clothing for any valuables she might have, and then ran off.
The women lay there, the rain drops pelting her like tears.
She would never get back up again.
...
He was on the brink of death.
He sat over a bridge, gazing at the black, turbulent water below. Over the past few weeks, the stress of his job and the loss of a partner have been eating away at him. Now, he is an empty husk of the man he used to be. No words could describe the feeling of utter emptiness within him.
He was going to do it.
With a shudder, he pushed himself off the bridge and towards the water below, the water that invited his death and reached upward to embrace his falling, lithe body.
He fell into the water making little noise. The ripples from his dive merged with the roaring waves of the sea.
Perhaps the way he died was symbolic of the way he lived: nameless, insignificant, purposeless.
...
A teenager who overdosed, an elderly woman left to die, and a depressed worker who killed himself...
All lived without meaning on Earth. Their potential had been wasted in this world.
Destiny would give them a second chance. They would be reborn.