
by Corason
It began as the story of a simple lepidopterist... But one day – which he described as ‘sacred’ – he discovered the dark, horrific, bloodthirsty and violent reality of his world...‘The Fake’ – that was the nickname they gave him. He was seen as tall and handsome, with chestnut-coloured hair, curly and wavy; his skin was soft to the touch, beautiful to look at and had a slightly tanned complexion; he had fine eyebrows, and freckles dotted his face – the face of a free yet tormented young man. And what people remembered most about this being with a black heart, a sad gaze and a desperate smile… It was his blood-red and crimson eyes, which seemed ablaze and mesmerised all who met his solemn gaze. He thought himself mad because of them, and he was, but a superhuman intelligence had developed within him during his sojourns in the void… And despite the very few glimpses he had that day, he understood what this lost world really was: on the brink of collapse, filthy, ruled by chaos and desolation, and which harboured nothing but foul-smelling refuse that attacked one another, spilling blood until it overflowed from that poor mug, having destroyed so many lives that not even hell would want them. And… his sole aim, as the Fake, is to leave and no longer be associated with this ephemeral world, which is far from poetic; and his misadventures, along with his game of chess, will lead him towards a very murky… and rainbow-hued? ending. But… his story is no longer our concern… or rather… my story is none of your business! For in this book, with walls splattered with bloodstains, a floor from which emerge decaying organs, bones, bits of devoured flesh, and all those red eyes staring into the void… We shall follow the story of my pawns… towards the god of this world: me.And how I shall destroy them, manipulate them, kill them, tear them apart… ALL THESE WORDS ARE of a sweetness… as toxic and terrifying as: me. My story is none of your business because this world does not belong to you… Welcome to False.