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Submitted to Contest #330
“Nora.” “No.” “Nora!” Nora kept her back turned to the wall, hunched over her cigarette like that one scene from the Blair Witch Project. She fumbled with the lighter a few times, struggling against the February wind. Flick. Flick. Flick. It wouldn’t light “Fuckin’ hell…” she mumbled to herself. “Hey!” the other girl , Van, raised her arms in exasperation. “Don’t fucking ignore me! I’m talking to you! Answer me!” She grabbed Nora’s shoulder, a move of utter desperation, as the two were never usually ones for physical contact. “That’s it, h...
Submitted to Contest #329
Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, my darling. Blood and bile soaked through the shag carpet. Humans often puked when they were scared.Thank you, Thank you, Thank you. I liked to thank them, like hunters thank the deer. Deer are more useful, though; the meat can last for months if stored properly, the hide can make clothes, you can even use the antlers and bones for tools. Human meat is scarce, their skin makes weak leather, and their bones are thin and brittle. This is the true burden of the vampire- we could, and do, drink the blood of other...
Submitted to Contest #328
Your hometown always had a constant fog over it, a quiet unease that never went away. Now you were in a city, still on the East Coast, so not far from where you came from, probably. You wished you had remembered how you had gotten here. Every building was old, juxtaposed by the neon signs of nightlife. Nightlife that you really could do without, but you could do with some central heating. You found yourself in line for a small sports bar, the scent of alcohol and buffalo sauce choking your senses. On autopilot, you handed the bouncer an ID f...
Submitted to Contest #325
contains references to drugs (marijuana) and former drug abuse, and heavy mentions of hallucinations/Psychosis symptoms Lara walked from the door of the Blitz Cafe and Dispensary, coffees in hand, pre-rolls in pocket. The Cafe and Dispensary was her last stop before heading into the studio- she thought to bring Frances a coffee to stay on her good side, as recording was already behind. It wasn’t her fault, though, but it was still always good to be on your editor’s good side, she supposed. Frances was 70 and was an acclaimed satirical auth...
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