It came in the night for the youngest first; creeping and crawling its way through the village like a rolling bank of fog. The morning was filled with the simultaneous wailing of mother's cries as they clutched their children to their chest, coated in their blood as it soaked through the mattress.
It came for the old next, preying upon weakened bones and damaged immune systems. It tore them apart from the inside, wreaking havoc and leaving decay in its wake. Then it took the rest, one by one.
But it left me alive, a witness to its horrific deeds.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Robin Laurinec and writers in Fiction and other communities.
It's Dangerous to Go Alone
It's dangerous to go alone, don't you know? You can never tell who is a monster in the guise of a man. A calm night can turn deadly in an instance. Yes, you should never go alone. Besides, it's much more fun with friends. Friends keep you safe, they keep you tethered to reality. I can see a lone figure walking by themselves past me, head down and headphones in. Perhaps I should walk with them, so they aren't so lonely.
By Robin Laurinec3 years ago in Fiction
The steps to losing a child
Step One: Lose a child. Not what anyone wants to happen and nothing you can do to change it, but you can go through steps to becoming happy again. You can go through steps to loving again. You can go through steps to become a new you because after losing a child you will never be the same person you once were.
By Tabitha Hinkley3 days ago in Fiction
Unsaid
Beth hadn’t realised how cold her hands were until the mug stopped hurting. The café was too loud for a weekday morning. Cups struck saucers. Steam hissed. Someone laughed too sharply behind her. Beth wrapped both hands around the worn coffee cup and waited for the warmth to settle, for the ache to ease into something manageable.
By Courtney Jones5 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.