Stolen From Dead Hands – A Creepypasta Tale From 2020TOO

…The light blinks five or six times before glowing as bright as a newborn star, revelling a sea of shadow figures surrounding Damon, with Christoph at the forefront.

“Hello little brother, miss me?” he asks with a swagger Damon had not seen before in his brother.

“I-I-I, I didn’t even realise you w-were gone.”

The smile drops from Christoph’s face, and he stares at his brother with a stony resolve, before he smiles broadly once again. “The old Christoph would’ve let a crude remark like that cut to his very bone, but not I, not the Christoph that stands before you. I laugh,” he says with a well-placed overly loud and deeply sarcastic laugh. “I laugh while you suffer in the SHIT you FUCKING built for yourself.”

“YOU BUILT THIS SHIT, I JUST TOOK IT FROM YOUR DEAD HANDS AND MADE IT INTO SOMETHING BETTER! SOMETHING WORTH FUCKING DYING FOR!” he bellows as he thrusts himself to his feet, sizing himself up to his smiling brother.

“Well then little brother,” Christoph sneers, as the light goes out. “Prepare to die.”…

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