When my fingers hit the keys,I never know what is about to emerge from the grey matter of my brain.
As peace is falling over the Iwipoo warriors. The Wai are preparing for the war that has been dormant for.
Everyone’s story always beings either in the morning or at night. Mine began when the sun colored the sky blood.
Hello my fire starters. This short story I written I had submitted for a writing contest. Please let me know.
The whistling caused by the wind forcing it’s way through the crack in her coffin. Made Abella’s eyes open halfway looking.
Every night Abella rises and renews the promise to herself to get rid of Makalo’s abomination. Every night that promise.
The smell of blood swirled around the dead as if it was like freshly baked cake. The mansion was buzzing.
The sun was shining but the rays were being its deceptive cohort. There was a chill on the sea as.
Makalo felt the shift in the house when Abella returned. He was in his library sitting on his ninetieth century.
The night wraps around the undead like a silken sheet, that slowly caresses and transitions with their every move. A.
Chapter One Not so long ago, my kind was feared by not only humans but the very creatures that we.