Short stories

THE STRANGER

π—§π—›π—˜ 𝗦𝗧π—₯π—”π—‘π—šπ—˜π—₯ You gasp, trying to swallow in as much oxygen as your lungs can contain. You can still hear the sinister cackle echoing through the trees. Your heart pounds ferociously till your ribs hurt alongside your kidney from all the running. Lightning flashes, scarring the inky black sky. The sound of thunder rumbles from

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SCRIPTORIA

𝗦𝗖π—₯π—œπ—£π—§π—’π—₯π—œπ—” You raise your head and are immediately hit with an intense slice of light. Momentarily disoriented, you squint your eyes and wonder how you got to this place filled with brilliance so high your eyes hurt. On the walls, there are columns of golden engravings that reflect the light that seems to emanate from

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WRINKLES

π—ͺπ—₯π—œπ—‘π—žπ—Ÿπ—˜π—¦ Your mother intercepts you just as you are about to tiptoe in through the door. “And just where do you think you’re going, young lady?” her firm voice demands. Her arms are crossed over her chest. You let out a groan and straighten your sneaky posture to look at her. “I’m sorry, Mom. I

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