Universal Appeal - The Meeting of Songwriter X & Z'Orion the Wizard_Old Bones by a Yew_
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Universal Appeal - The Meeting of Songwriter X & Z'Orion the Wizard
Songwriter X hadn’t been in the Kingdom of X23 all that long. In fact, he didn’t really know how he ended up here in the first place. One minute he was shooting YouTube videos with his self-proclaimed “Skeleton Band”, deep in the bowels of his makeshift garage turned music studio, and the next he had literally fallen from the Sky and washed ashore on some salty beach which he was unable to recognize.He knew right away this wasn’t Earth anymore. He could tell by the metallic taste of the air, that he was a very long way from Whittier, California in the Grand Old US of A. He had spent the last f...
Old Bones by a Yew
I like to think of my untimely demise as murder. If only because it made my story sound more epic. An unnatural culling told better than the story of a poor, unsuspecting fool struck down by a rogue arrow. Arrows, as far as I’m concerned, are not a naturally occurring phenomenon. Regardless, the tiny spear entered the left side of my head and exited the other. I can’t necessarily recall if I screamed in pain or if I futilely attempted to stop the bleeding.(These sudden lapses of memory have become rather common lately. I can’t help but wonder if it was to be expected after experiencing such a...
Elavera
I stared outside the bus window, as our driver took a particularly sharp corner and screeched to a halt in front of Elgy Lane bus stop (#2304). People rushed around outside, heading into and out of shops, as the sun hopscotched through the clouds. A yowww.onedoor.ccung boy accidentally dropped his phone and quickly picked it up, stuffing it back in his pocket as he looked around in embarrassment. An older lady shuffled along past him, not noticing or caring about that little incident, her equally aged and unconcerned cocker spaniel setting a stately pace alongside her. A girl around my age hopped out of a ...
A Grave Departure
There are more of them now. They linger in the shadows, a sad, unavoidable consequence of the plague that has decimated our numbers. Misery draws them, and the sickly-sweet stench of dead beckons from the mass graves.They barely look different from the corpses they feed upon- sallow skin, teeth rotten and black. Or so I’m told- I’ve only ever seen them from a distance. No one dares draw near, terrified of the pestilence they may carry. These ghouls are carrion vultures. They emerge when night cools the air of our desert town, residing in the dark shadows of evening as they feast. No one know...