Space or click for alternate drawing (I am adding more and gave up on my original idea of making a comic with the story as I lack the motivation for that and don’t like the one drawing I did do much.... the shading is alright but the smoke part I did failed :”) The guy in the story needs a name... Credit to @hold-onto-anything for the design and original species :DD
-Pyrophobia- Nobody knew my name, I was fine with that- used to it at that point. I never really was one to have friends and people to talk to as people always assumed I was sick and avoided me. I mean I guess I was... I just never noticed how much until he came. I remember that night like it was yesterday... I had been sleeping on the streets for months in the cold, nearly freezing to death many times. I didn’t used to be homeless, but couldn’t seem to adjust to the fact I was. It was hard, harder than anything I had ever experienced before in my life. I once had much- I had a family, a home, a life with much abundance. A comfortable life with little work. It was nice... But I took it for granted... I spent time with my wife and son yes, but I don’t think I ever truly loved them like they deserved, and then, it was gone. Completely gone... everything I had loved and cared about completely- gone. I don’t remember much from that night, my memory refuses to work... perhaps to protect me... perhaps to hurt me more... All I know is they burned- I remember watching the fire coming from our car from outside on the ground. I had been thrown from it and both my wife and son had been trapped inside. I woke up in a hospital room weeks later, only to learn, they were gone... From that point on everything fell apart- First my family was gone, then my money went to every bill I got from the hospital and for my house, then the house was gone, I couldn’t afford it any longer and the bank took it from me... I was on the streets with only the clothes on my back and a heart heavier than the entire world. The months dragged on endlessly, me wishing I had went with them, questioning my very life and why it had not been taken with theirs. I was broken, hurting, my mind was sick. As the nights grew colder I began to freeze. I couldn’t bring myself to start a single flame- the one thing that could save my life- the one thing that’s had taken my family’s lives, so I froze. Night after night I waited for my final breathe as the shivering began to stop, but each morning I woke up again with the sun, cold, hungry, and completely alone. I had no will left to live. I often sat for hours staring at the sky, or crying into my hands, though I had few tears left to shed. Alone...... until I wasn’t. I will never forget it. The first time I ever saw Pyro... he was standing over top of me, looking down, his face inches from my own, after I had woken up from a sleep the cold forced me into. I was scared of him, he was the size of a horse and like nothing I had ever seen before. I thought I had finally lost it- my sanity gone- just like that. I got up and left thinking if I did it wouldn’t be gone. I was wrong. It followed me for weeks, I named it Pyrophobia... it reminded me of my fear. It never did anything... it didn’t seem threatening despite its terrifying looks... I was still afraid to approach it though. That was, until I was faced with my fears in a way I never thought would happen... I knew I had been having nightmares that had been getting increasingly worse as the months dragged on but I wasn’t ready for this. AHHHHHH IT DELETED THE REST HECKKKKK I JUST SPENT AN HOUR WRITING THIS AND IT IS GONE
