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Weekly Contest #334
Hunger was a terrible beast. It twisted and tore at her insides, drying up what little milk she had left. Two of her pups had already succumbed; the remaining three were but patches of fur covering sharp edges.They’d be lucky to see another day. A brisk spring draught breezed through the wolf’s den, bringing with it the scent of iron and smoke—a scent she'd come to fear, after its wearer killed her siblings, as well as her mate, not all that long ago. Still, it had her mouth watering. However dangerous, it might very well have been her last ...
Weekly Contest #333
CW: Themes and/or references to murder, implied cannibalism Slowly, the iron-wrought gates of Blackthorne Manor opened, shrieking in pain. Father sat beside me, unmoving and pale as the trunks of the Ghost Gums that lined the path ahead.Despite it only being afternoon, darkness claimed the dead forest. A horrid stench of decay prickled my nose. For a moment, I contemplated begging Father to turn back, away from the thorns and branches that seemed to reach for our throats with their spindly claws. Not that I imagined the undead, rotten-skinn...
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