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Weekly Contest #341
This used to be her library. Their sanctuary, full of light, and knowledge, and stolen kisses among the shelves. Now she creeps along the unkempt stacks, blazing torch in one hand, bared steel in the other. She swore she would never return to this place. She had no choice. Her quarry is here, a parasite in the heart of her palace. The library windows are darkened and the ash of damaged books coats her pauldrons, mixing with the sweat on the back of her neck. She paces in front of a cracked mirror but doesn’t bother to gaze into it. Her prey...
Weekly Contest #327
“Is that an arm?” Wyatt asked, bending at his skinny waist to get a closer look. My tired eyes weren’t sufficient for this task, not in the graying twilight, and I knelt to the cooling dirt and worn grass. “Could just be a branch,” Irma said, but she kept watch over my shoulders all the same. My duster pooled around my boots, retaining body heat as I unholstered my pistol and placed the barrel in what appeared to be the curled fingers of a palm. The object was rigid enough to lift from the tangle of wildflowers. The ring on my left trigger...
Weekly Contest #325
The blood she painted along the door was meant to protect her. The carcass at her feet was intended to destroy her. It was fortunate Celeste had been the first creature to find this sheep, chained to the cattle guard at the edge of her property. She was able to kill it swiftly and cleanly. The creatures that looked on from the cornrows, which she only knew by their throaty huffs and the clack of teeth too large in their mouths, would not have offered such a mercy. The wooden porch creaked beneath her feet as she lifted her brush to the corn...
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