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Description
i still cant get over like the old england and victorian era so i smooshed that and a piece i wrote and bam. we got Nosoi.

Also here’s the piece:

Prompt: Welcome Back

The sky churned, shaking the world. Sickness crawled the streets of every city, turning the bloodstreams of the word to sludge. The oceans and skies and roads and tunnels all whispered theories of the unfortunate. The sickness gave me millions of bodies to clean up. They piled up in the living’s houses, filled the streets, and crashed along shores.

Each one I carried weighed more and more as the gates of heaven and hell balanced. The cemeteries were drained of coffins and people to make more. The ground became saturated with human blood and bones.

The black plague mutated and broke out, choking the entire human race until its population was shaved to almost nothing. The people who remained locked themselves in places where they hoped they wouldn’t see me. Still, one by one, breath by breath, I guided them to another world.

As the sun set, I wandered the streets of each city, picking up the souls of every human left. Their efforts to keep me away proved futile. No wall could stop me. No enchantment. Nothing. I shadowed them, lurking, until I took them somewhere peaceful.

Among the streets, sunset’s rays illuminated a figure drenched in darkness, spreading threats of disease and plague. They wore a top hat over their blood red hair that was neither short or long, and gloves that smothered and carefully wove together the monster that incinerated the human race. Their fingers were long and thin, pointed at the tips like sewing needles. With still wind billowing their open jacket, tendrils only visible to divine eyes pulsated through the air.

I crept towards them, and as they sensed my presence, they turned to the side to reveal the beak of a bird and a white cravat dyed with fire.

“I see you were bored, Nosoi,” I greeted. Smoke reeked from their googles.

“Bored is an understatement,” they replied. Their voice—more, voices—vibrated off the city walls. What a way to be dramatic.

I sighed, keeping a good several meters between us. “Yes, well you’re making my job very tiresome.”

Nosoi’s laugh cut sharp and rough as of they had webs of their own sickness laced in their lungs. “What’s wrong Death? Don’t enjoy the gift I brought you?”

Each minute, a little tug here and there marked several hundreds more dead. I gripped my scythe, exhausted by the labour. “I can’t say I do. But as always, running into you is a pleasure,” I replied. They nodded once. “I must be off to clean up your mess. Welcome back to the Overworld, Nosoi.”

Description
i still cant get over like the old england and victorian era so i smooshed that and a piece i wrote and bam. we got Nosoi.

Also here’s the piece:

Prompt: Welcome Back

The sky churned, shaking the world. Sickness crawled the streets of every city, turning the bloodstreams of the word to sludge. The oceans and skies and roads and tunnels all whispered theories of the unfortunate. The sickness gave me millions of bodies to clean up. They piled up in the living’s houses, filled the streets, and crashed along shores.

Each one I carried weighed more and more as the gates of heaven and hell balanced. The cemeteries were drained of coffins and people to make more. The ground became saturated with human blood and bones.

The black plague mutated and broke out, choking the entire human race until its population was shaved to almost nothing. The people who remained locked themselves in places where they hoped they wouldn’t see me. Still, one by one, breath by breath, I guided them to another world.

As the sun set, I wandered the streets of each city, picking up the souls of every human left. Their efforts to keep me away proved futile. No wall could stop me. No enchantment. Nothing. I shadowed them, lurking, until I took them somewhere peaceful.

Among the streets, sunset’s rays illuminated a figure drenched in darkness, spreading threats of disease and plague. They wore a top hat over their blood red hair that was neither short or long, and gloves that smothered and carefully wove together the monster that incinerated the human race. Their fingers were long and thin, pointed at the tips like sewing needles. With still wind billowing their open jacket, tendrils only visible to divine eyes pulsated through the air.

I crept towards them, and as they sensed my presence, they turned to the side to reveal the beak of a bird and a white cravat dyed with fire.

“I see you were bored, Nosoi,” I greeted. Smoke reeked from their googles.

“Bored is an understatement,” they replied. Their voice—more, voices—vibrated off the city walls. What a way to be dramatic.

I sighed, keeping a good several meters between us. “Yes, well you’re making my job very tiresome.”

Nosoi’s laugh cut sharp and rough as of they had webs of their own sickness laced in their lungs. “What’s wrong Death? Don’t enjoy the gift I brought you?”

Each minute, a little tug here and there marked several hundreds more dead. I gripped my scythe, exhausted by the labour. “I can’t say I do. But as always, running into you is a pleasure,” I replied. They nodded once. “I must be off to clean up your mess. Welcome back to the Overworld, Nosoi.”