Tenant: “No.” She admitted, guiltily. “I am sorry. If I enter the darkness, it would grab me before I can fetch you anything to get the fire going.” Sam nodded. He had faced death before. But every time, there was hope, a fighting chance. This time, he could do nothing. “What would happen to you after it kills me?”Emily visibly shuddered. “He will have me, place its scythe through my soul. It allows it to control the agony my soul receives. Then, until the morning, I will keep suffering. Every moment feels like an eternity. I might switch to my other personalities, just to escape the pain.”Sam nodded. So she knew about her condition. He mindlessly reached his gun. At that moment, he truly felt helpless, and at least, he wanted to go out on his own terms.“You have a gun?” Emily asked, eyes wide. “Yes.” He said, but before he could do anything, Emily slapped him.“You idiot, there is gun powder in these bullets right? You can light anything on fire with that."
Bortos: I remember waking once from a horrible dream, in which I looked down and saw the clown’s enormous mouth, its massive, wall sized face at the end of my bed and felt myself being dragged… dragged though I kicked and screamed, fighting against the covers. Thrashing and flailing for purchase, closer and closer to the red rimmed mouth, filled with murderous hanging teeth that waited, hungry to chew and devour me as the clown continued to smile.
Sometimes I would look at the black. The space painted in for the mouth. In the daylight, you could clearly see that it was black paint. You could even sort of make out the brickwork beneath the paint. But at night, at night the clown's fixed smile seemed warped around a space that seemed not to end with the wall, but to extend back, further and further, like a pathway or a tunnel that would go on forever.
Bortos: I remember waking once from a horrible dream, in which I looked down and saw the clown’s enormous mouth, its massive, wall sized face at the end of my bed and felt myself being dragged… dragged though I kicked and screamed, fighting against the covers. Thrashing and flailing for purchase, closer and closer to the red rimmed mouth, filled with murderous hanging teeth that waited, hungry to chew and devour me as the clown continued to smile.
Sometimes I would look at the black. The space painted in for the mouth. In the daylight, you could clearly see that it was black paint. You could even sort of make out the brickwork beneath the paint. But at night, at night the clown's fixed smile seemed warped around a space that seemed not to end with the wall, but to extend back, further and further, like a pathway or a tunnel that would go on forever.
- Forlag
- Mace Styx
- Stemmer
- Katrina Medina, Mace Styx
- Udgivelsesår
- 2021
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