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Weekly Contest #143
I met Tom when he was just a young boy. He was lost, wandering around the grass with eyes brimming with tears. He was wearing a uniform, green short sleeved shirt and shorts of the same colour. I recognised it, those wearing them were our friends. Unable to stand watching him suffer, I hurried to him, moving away from my herd. When I reached him, there was no fear in his eyes. Being a uniquely large mammal, most people steer clear from us. But he just stood there, crying. I lifted my trunk and patted him in the head, trying to reassu...
Shortlisted for Contest #121 ⭐️
**TW** Mention of death, suicide, and mental health. To say my job is hard, it’s an understatement. I am one of the thousands of workers allotted to take people away after they pass. People call us Death. We don’t look the way people describe us in the media, there isn’t a dress code. We don’t wear long black cloaks and carry a menacing scythe. How we look varies on each one of us. I am light, I am scary, and I am inevitable. That’s the only way to describe me. The unfortunate part of my job starts when I arrive at the scen...
Weekly Contest #112
It was on a Wednesday when the first body dropped. When I first got called to the scene, there was a certain mood in the air. The officers chattering among themselves softly, and there were uneasy stares. “It’s not a good one Detective.” Jones, one of the uniforms, told me. And he was right.It was not the bare flesh that scared me, neither did the bones protruding out of his skin, nor did his wide eyes. It was the mark he bore. It was a big evil eye symbol scarred on his abdomen. The same kind of symbol that my wife wears on her neck. T...
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