This is the prologue, where I just wanted to have a grown woman crying and basically dying of sadness because, hey, I like getting my soul ripped in two, so I don't see why she wouldn't.
Regardless of my preference, this story's gonna be about family and death and stuff like that, but with kickass action scenes and apocalypses and stuff.
I'm not sure of the title, so I'm going to just use this one for now.
She woke with a start, bolting upright and gulping down air as if she had been drowning. It took her a few seconds to recognise the room she was in and the how much time had passed, darkness gathering in the corners and the only thing driving away the inky blackness was the pale moonlight pouring in from the window. Her skin felt cold and damp with sweat and when she went to wipe away the moisture that had gathered on her cheeks, she realized they were tears. All at once, the memories of her dream came back to her and she gasped as if struck. More tears welled until her sight was blurred, the liquid only spilling over the edges when she clenched her eyes shut. Her heart ached with the memory of pain that was far too great to be healed, even though it was only a fraction of what she'd felt before. Her hand clutched at her chest, scrunching the fabric while the other curled, pressing the heel of her palm against her forehead, strands of hair brushing her fingers. She felt a sob that was more like a choking cough escape from her lips, more sobs being wrenched from her lungs as her throat ached. She curled in on herself, clutching at her flesh with enough force to bruise. And as she fell apart, all she could think was