Shouts and raised fists call for every heart to be counted. Will Dias be counted among the marked in rebelling against the tyrannical SAFE Act, join the unmarked who hold his dream in their hands, or with everything to gain and nothing to lose, will he be able to keep a distant promise to not be blown away with everyone else?
A young hunter had promised to his wolfgirl friend that he’s always ready to come to help her and that she only needs to call. Now the promise will be put to test.
A man returns to his ancestral home and inherits an instrument, and finds its his soul that get’s played with instead.
“No, I’m done. I can’t finish this.” – Snowdrake’s “NOPE.jpg” moment trying to read this story.
I fell to one knee, hands braced on either side of the large pot. Waterlogged hands gripped my collar, pulling me closer to the murky broth. Somehow, I knew it was over. I knew that was fucking it. It sounds nuts, but I don’t care. I don’t care if it was just a dream. I knew if I touched that fetid water, I was done. The heat of the broth seared my face as I stood inches above it.