Challenge Accepted_Death By Impulse_The Book of Torment_Right or Left, Up or Down
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Challenge Accepted
“We accept your silly dare!” Sebastian proclaimed. Stomping his paw against the ground stirring up the dirt and dust into the girls’ faces. Arthur hummed enthusiastically in agreement. They growled lowly and wiped their faces to rid the dust.“Good luck fellas, no lynx has ever been able to stay the whole night in the haunted part of the forest.” Meadow stated matter-of-factly. “Not even the wolves could do it, they’ve all ran with their tails tucked between their legs!” Esmé exclaimed.“Luck? Pfft. We’re the bravest of the brave! We don’t need luck!” Arthur continued, “Every animal is going to...
Death By Impulse
As the flimsy, black smoke and the ripe, red flames rose from the harsh, poorly structured pyre, I watched as my lifeless body turned to ash. Four people standing by the wooden construction, grief-stricken, stared into the flames expectantly, hopeful that I would return.But they will be disappointed. My spirit form is complete. As much as I wanted it, there’s no going back to them. I’m stuck in this solitary purgatory forever.I’ve never had a family - not by blood at least. Those four girls were the closest thing I’ve had. We had each other. I walked by them, steadily grasping the weightlessne...
The Book of Torment
She turned off the lights , blew off all the candles. Holding her book so tightly in her grip, she shut the curtains, after making sure no one was there but her. The door was locked. She was alone. Placing her book on the table open on a rwww.onedoor.ccather peculiar page, she whispered gently as a light gradually made its way up in this dark void:“Here I am, here I come again, Asking once more for what I’ve lostTo revert the clocks and undo the painTo hand me back the person I once was”She closed her eyes as she chanted, initially not paying much attention to the gleaming sphere in front of her, but then a...
Right or Left, Up or Down
Astrid inspected the two massive wooden doors for any hidden triggers or booby traps while considering which one to open. Both barriers were wrapped in studded bands of iron, and both were securely locked. Her two companions sat on an outcropping of rock impatiently awaiting her decision. One was an iron-helmed warrior wearing battered, rusty, splint-mail armor and sharpening his two-handed bastard sword with a well-oiled whetstone; a nasty gash on the side of his face, recently delivered by a goblin’s crooked spear, still oozed blood. The other, an old gray-bearded sage dressed only in a rune...