K.H. Obergfoll
Bio
Writing my escape, planning my future one story at a time. If you like what you read—leave a comment, an encouraging tip, or a heart. It is always appreciated!!
& above all—thank you for your time
Achievements (1)
Stories (133)
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The Perfect No-Good Day
Shrink-wrapped rolls of four-foot pieces of carpet were all that was left of the house on 15th and Main. The neighbors might've noticed but Jimmy--the local trash collector surely didn't. He was paid extra to turn a blind eye and for good reason. Why I couldn't have his job I'd never know.
By K.H. Obergfoll3 years ago in Fiction
Madame Horne's Lavish Library of Worldly Wizardry
Bitter, yellow-chalk colored fog clouded so thickly in the dormitories rafters that Cassie could practically taste it. “I don ‘t care what color the fog is Ginny, that is the least of our worries.” Cassie hissed as she dragged a heavy foot-stool closer to the center of the cold, drab, oversized room while Ginny used a pair of broken binoculars to assess the origin of where the fog was coming. Of all the hundred-and thirty-two rooms in the east wing, Milweather’s Girls dorm was at the tip-top of the mountainous circular tower. An upside-down cone hung above them with carved wooden spindling to catch all the wayward spider-webs that bloomed from end to end.
By K.H. Obergfoll3 years ago in Fiction
SILENT TORTURE: THE CLOCK-TURNERS CURSE
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. “It wasn’t my own…it wasn’t my own…it wasn’t my own…I swear.” Small jewel-like thorns grow from the veins glittering the ground like the dust from diamonds. Some say you can see your soul in the reflection, others say it steals a part of you. No one has ever lived long enough to tell. It’s well known that Wolf-Firs protect the heart of the tree. Each of them grows with splinters of mirrors that twist and braid themselves into the rings of the trees like ticks on a clock—they will last hundreds-of-thousands of years and are virtually indestructible. Many people die trying to steal a piece of their trunks—very valuable parts in these lands. BUT, if you ever spot a Wolf-Fir do not let it lure you in, do not…. for you might not escape the hands of time as each passing attempt traps you further and further behind, sinking it's poisonous teeth in you until you disappear forever.
By K.H. Obergfoll3 years ago in Horror
The Undertaker's Garden
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. Well, it wasn’t exactly me; my reflection was different, much different. Seeming, in fact to have a mind of its own, anchored to a body that looked just like me but wasn’t—and before you click back let me explain.
By K.H. Obergfoll3 years ago in Fiction
