Chloe_WTF_Ghostly Memories_Our Night in the Cemetery
Catalog Guide:
Chloe
“Where do you think you’re going?” Darrel asked annoyed with Chloe.“The hell away from you!” she replied as she packed her bags. “I’m done with your lies. You’re a fricken ass.”“Look. I’m sorry…” he started.“You damn right you’re sorry. A sorry excuse for a man,” Chloe stated. “I can’t believe it took me this long to figure that out.”“You can’t go now,” he offered.“And why the hell not?” she asked as she folded her favorite black dress and put it in her suwww.onedoor.ccitcase.“It’ll be morning soon,” he reminded her.“Don’t give a shit,” she retorted.“Where will you go?” he asked realizing that she was seri...
WTF
The WTF—World Twister Finals—is held every ten years, and never in the same place. Now hidden within Omaha, Nebraska's dark dredges, this year’s WTF competition is perhaps the most anticipated since the 1976 Castle Classic. Rodrick “Rocky” Wilson stood in the alley next to an inconspicuous door, a smile plastered across his face. The door looked like any other in the alleyway, except for the four circles of red, green, blue, and yellow freshly painted above it—the WTF crest. Rocky brushed his fingers across the circles, feeling the nerves in his body fire-off in rapid succession. I’m here, he ...
Ghostly Memories
Levi pulled a black shirt from his closet, black jeans from the laundry basket and a pair of mismatched black socks from an assorted pile of things behind the bedroom door. After getting dressed, he slipped on a pair of black sneakers and put on a black baseball cap that he decorated with two felt triangles to look like ears.This will have to do, Levi thought.Since early February, Levi startled when he looked in the mirror. After taking a few seconds to compose himself, he drew whiskers onto his face using a piece of coal from the barbeque grill.“Levi! Hurry up! Your friends are here!” called ...
Our Night in the Cemetery
The sun continued sinking down, and the feeling crept in that the night would be a long one. Our trip was spontaneous; we had brought nothing to make our overnight stay outdoors more comfortable. Neither of us expected to sleep anyway, which was good since there wasn’t a blanket or sleeping bag between us. A backpack she had grabbed from the trunk of the car was all we had, and I had no idea what she had in it. Approaching the house, with its frame sagging and paint peeling from decades of neglect and abandonment, my blood chilled to an icy slush and every hair on my body stood straight to att...