Pain cursed through his body. Stinging as it flowed throughout his blob. As his body was one small piece, the pain easily spread the moment it came.
Light, there was light everywhere! The world used to be black, but now all he could see was white! Choosing if he wishes to be blinded for the rest of his life, or being able to see the color white and black, he would gladly choose the former and omit this experience. Why would he choose this option? It was too painful, and he was already getting used to being blinded! He felt to himself that being blinded was not as bad as he once though now.
This did not make any sense to him. Nothing was going wrong the whole time he was attacking! Why did everything go wrong once he killed it! The worst was all the slithering things that used to love him. They had all molested him before the event, than after it they chose to abandon him right after!
He regretted fighting for those perverts! Any stranger who repeatedly feels your body must have something wrong in their minds! Why did he not think of it earlier!? He had his head simply to high up his flat behind!
He didn't even know why he had liked those buggers, they weren't even good! They were all ugly crooks! Taking advantage of me, then being left for dead! Why is the world so unfair!?? What kind of family are they, leaving the moment someone gets attacked!?
The white light was so bright like a haven! The problem was that it was too much of a haven, while he was a person filled with sins. Countless unknown sins!
His pain ached, and gave him agony. He constantly floundered around to make himself feel better, while doing that he ended up falling off the edge of the shieldish wall and fell down.
As he fell he knew he was dead now. He knows once someone falls from too high of a high, they will die, and he won't even have a body left be buried, eaten, decomposed, or whatever the ritual was for his kind. He fell, like starlight dropping below into the chasm, a empty dark crevice. He had fell.
The fever of misery over his physique as he fell, intimidated him repeatedly as his frame of liquids felt as if they were evaporating. Oh he ever so wished to go back to his lonely times. It was now to late for regrets, for his deathbed was most likely near.
Plunging from the peak, the air violated and abused him even more so than the pain from the light. He was bashed and getting shot by the particles of air as they gave him a massage with the strength of Hercules. This sort of pain invaded his mind more than the other, for this would be the cause of death. He was still descending to the floor, who knew how long he had left to live? The dumb betrayers won't help him break the fall ethier! How was he supposed to live? He was still flying down, this meant wherever he fell from, wherever the things had supported him like a sea to, was a very high height. Even if there are cushions on the floor now, he is as good as dead.