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Weekly Contest #269
The smell of rotting flesh burning was palpable. It was the first thing Oliver noticed when he finally awoke from his slumber. That and the sound of panicked yelps from his friend. Sighing and cursing with every move, Oliver sat up to look at the white-haired man. Well- man, it was a bit of a stretch for Thierry. With a pale face that never entirely lost its baby fat and a frame that looked as flimsy as an autumn leaf, he was permanently frozen in the body of his seventeen-year-old self. Oliver always found himself caught between jealousy an...
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