This was from a mad write ... had twenty minutes with one sentence to place someplace within the story. Granted, now I don't know what sentence that was... LOL
From the murky depths of darkness, there does stir within a pool, a creature of demise.Woken now, from its seemingly eternal slumber, to walk the Earth and take its prize.
Through the trees of a forest, a harsh cold wind does blow, biting through the skin to chill one to the bone.Whispering impending death and doom, to fall upon the land, as the creature of demise unfurls its wiry wings.Its wounded soul wanting nothing more than cold hearted revenge upon those who have imprisoned it within these walls of sand.Many eons spent, slumbering beneath the land, as waves crash upon a sandy beach while ocean caps shimmer beneath a warming sun.The laughter of children swimming within the sea and their precious little feet pounding, oh so loudly, upon his roof of dreams from so far above.Years oftorment, its eyes cried dry now fill this vast sea of love; nothing left to hide from now, as it breaks the chains which do bind this creature of demise.And from the ocean it rises, blackening the sky and blocking out the sun.Hideous creature, demise surely is, as it takes its final plunge.
Swooping down upon the unsuspecting, delivering this mighty blow of death.Upon all the occupants of this vast beach, children screaming in terror as parents bury their heads in the sand like osteridges.One screams how the deadly beast has come back, come back to strike revenge for such an imprisonment they had bestowed upon it.Back for revenge, this creature is, bringing demise most fitting for all of them!For years they will whisper, carry upon the winds, of a winged creature of death that sprung forth from the very ocean it birthed.Breathing fire upon them all, crisping their flesh to the bone, blackened beyond midnight.Human barbeque to the fullest, a delectable treat for an appetizer to destruction.Scooping these helpless worms into its gaping maw, several at a time in each dive it makes upon the land.Death has a face and it has wings, does it have a soul as well?After today, it has many …
Chris has been fostered at the Crowley boot camp since he turned seven. At sixteen, he is finally ready to run away because his foster father is an abusive person who works Chris and the other children to the point of exhaustion. All he has left of h
Happy Halloween. A volume of Horrible Haunts & Twisted Tales taken from the horror books La Belle Rouge has written every October for a decade and a half. If you have read her works in the horror genre, you know the invitation is for you to enjoy thr