Catarina Mesquita
Bio
Samwise was the real hero.
Stories (3)
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In Between
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. I stumbled, tripping over roots, scraping my hands on the bark as I held for balance. Warm blood trickled down my temple, inching close to my left eye. Where am I? How did I get here? The last thing I can remember is... an argument. I think. I don't know this place. Looking up I try to catch a glimpse of the sky, is it night or day? The treetops are too dense, and I'm surrounded by neverending shade. I can hear something off in the distance, maybe water? As I am trying to make sense of everything, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, my skin as if being pricked by needles. A feeling I know all too well. I'm being watched. Suddenly adrenaline kicks in, and I look around in a frantic panic. "Who's there?"
By Catarina Mesquita4 years ago in Horror
Brother
There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Our parents came to the Valley in the early days of their union. Tales of fertile lands and wealthy life brought them to the Valley, where a bustling Town thrived season after season. Farmers produced steady crops and merchants had the finest of fabrics. Its success came from a sheltered life, nestled between the Twins as they affectionately called the steep mountain range walling the town. Tall slopes of evergreen woods, topped with a layer of snow, occasionally spitting flurries, rudely shifted by eastern winds. They stood guard from invaders, storms, and all evil that lurked outside. On one end of the Valley, the Narrow Pass, allowing the river to trickle through, widening as it twists and turns through the forest, sometimes placid as a mirror, sometimes furious and wild. It cuts our town in half and opens wide into a wide sandy bay, often visited by trading vessels from across the sea. Our Town shone amongst the greenery. Humble homes, painted in white or yellow, used to reflect the sunlight across miles, a beacon of warmth and safety. Winding cobbled streets, overseen by wooden balconies, each bore lovingly carved bannisters a joint effort between the family that inhabits the home.
By Catarina Mesquita4 years ago in Fiction
