Anonymous Sun 28 Jul 2024 19:55:35 No.67790034 Report

Quoted By:

>>67790001
Would the Booper know of Iadakan’s fate and give him one last one before his passing to at least make it peaceful?

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Anonymous Sun 28 Jul 2024 20:38:09 No.67790996 Report

Quoted By: >>67791083 >>67791174 >>67791253

>>67790034
>Iadakan lays in his bed, eyes staring towards the ceiling, he tries to move his limbs but cannot.
>It seems like he's on his last minutes.
>Next to him, his wife sleeps peacefully, unaware that when she awakens, she'll be in for a sad surprise.
>He wonders if this was the best choice.
>Just on the edge of his sight, two green dots stare at him from the dark.
>It's a sight Iadakan hasn't seen in years.
>"Wasn't my tenth birthday 28 years ago?"
>He can't muster the energy to say the words, but it doesn't seem to matter.
>The green dots are still. Unmoving. Unblinking.
>Time seems to slow down as a comforting voice filled his head.
>It sounded alot like his father actually.
>"It was. Still fresh, as if it happened just moments ago. You were in your bed, shuddering, shaking, clinging to an old ratty teddy slug as if you were to wither away without it. You cried upon first sight of me."
>Iadakan would cringe if he didn't feel so weak.
>"Are you seriously going to remind me of that right before I die? I'd rather not have the last thing in my head be of that ratty old stuffed slug."
>The eyes moved closer to the side of the bed.
>"No. A pteros last thoughts should be of home, of friends, of family, of peace."
>"Does that mean... one last boop for the road?"
>"Of course, Trent."
>A jagged thin finger reached out, and tapped him on the snout.
>"Boop."
>A familiar warmth fills Iadakan, memories flooding from the corners of his brain into the forefront, vivid as day.
>His mother's hugs, his father ruffling his hair, dancing with his wife, his son riding on his shoulders, a painting, a pair of designer sunglasses.
>Iadakan smiles as his eyes slowly close, feeling himself peacefully drift away into a soft green light.
>The figure watches dutifully as the ptero passes on, waiting past his last breath, past the last thump of his heart, until the very last pulse in the brain fades.
>And like that, the figure is gone, as if he never was there to begin with.

Anonymous Sun 28 Jul 2024 20:46:03 No.67791174 Report

Quoted By:

>>67790996
>Pteros on there way to ruin any religious argument with "Yeah well our god is actually real."