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Weekly Contest #368
Lungs heaving, I tear through the knee-high grass of Tamarack Bay’s oldest cemetery. A broken marker catches my foot, its cracked edge gouging another chunk from my shin. I gasp but bite my lip so I don’t cry out. The Ice Wraiths are somewhere behind me, stalking me through the maze of stones. For one endless second, the world is a silent abyss. No roaring power mowers. No birds. No leaves crunching beneath my feet. Just my breath, my blood, and the rain. Then laughter erupts behind me. The Wraiths weave between the headstones with dark bott...
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