The Rokkusai_RoadKill_Of Shadows and Strawberries_Demons Dwell Here
Catalog Guide:
The Rokkusai
*I did bring this creature from another story I am writing on. Just thought it should be known in case I needed to make one from scratch. It has not been flushed out in great detail however.*In the rainforest, among where there are many boulders and rocks of varying sizes, a small rock pup waddles through the brush, mostly composed of large leaves. His spherical body with four stumpy legs, two in front and two in the back, slowly but surely makes the trudge through the forest. A short stubby tail protruding from his rear waves excitedly and carefree in thwww.onedoor.cce small breeze that passes through the ...
RoadKill
It is late at night on U.S. Route 79, the south-north highway that starts from central Texas and ends in southwest Kentucky. A massive storm just past making the roads slick and glistening like the skin on a frog. A mist is forming, crawling it's way out of the woodline and onto the highway.A rig and its wagon barrel forward, hitting triple digits on the highway. The driver is a heavy-set man in his early forties sporting a long salt and pepper beard, wearing a faded green and white cap with a duck logo on it. The cab has trinkets and ornaments that he has collected on his many travels across ...
Of Shadows and Strawberries
She hadn’t always been Shadow. There had been a much simpler time, growing up in a cramped, one bedroom apartment in the city with her parents. They had always loved the strange baby they’d adopted, even when she’d begun to conjure objects, pets, and eventually a whole person out of the shadows. They’d taken Javier in stride, of course. “Great!” they had laughed upon Hera’s introduction of her new ‘friend.’ “We’ve been saying we needed a babysitter.”But Javier wasn’t really for them: he was for Hera. She had always been a bit of a loner in school—weird kids with creepy powers tended to get tha...
Demons Dwell Here
To the outside eye, Grandma Belle’s popsicle is melting across the book in her lap again, though she sits in her wicker chair under the shade of the peach tree behind her cottage.To the inner eye, Grandma Belle is dying, and she dies a little more each day.Grandma Belle’s eyes are closed, and her hands are limp in her lap, but one finger strokes the cotton of her red dress and remembers.Grandma Belle is Belle again, young and beautiful, picking roses to decorate the kitchen table in her hungry house, for George is coming over for dinner and, indeed, Andrew and Rick have promised to stop by wi...