The hot pain in May’s left side woke her. For a moment she was paralyzed, only able to flick her tongue across parched lips. She tasted salt from dried tears.
My Daughter’s Best Friend by Michelle Reynolds “Here you go Missy.” Elizabeth hears her daughter say as she enters the kitchen. Brooklyn is sitting
The freaks are out again tonight. I hear them howling. I hear branches cracking off trees. There were out last night, too. It has been warm and heat draws them to the streets. It’s been like this since the war, or since the raids, but really it started with the slave ships.
It was dark, and the party was going to start on the other side of the freshly-plowed south pasture anytime. Bob impatiently stomped through the damp earth toward the Thompson Farm.
Richard woke to the sound of the screen door slamming. Confused, he turned to check the clock. 3:17 am it blinked at him, before going dark. A knot of anxiety cramped his stomach. He knew something was wrong.
Daniel believed he had found the perfect girl. She was bright and enthusiastic, and most importantly not squeamish about his work.
I was sitting in my room when I first saw it. Or thought I saw it, I suppose. I can’t say that I’ve ever actually seen anything. But I knew it was there, nonetheless.
Detective Burns and Lowry hurried down the creaky hallway with weapons firmly drawn. Cobwebs and exposed wiring along the ceiling blazed with an eerie yellow
No, don’t wake up. I’ve been waiting for a quiet moment.
Father Rosso stood over the corpseless head, his beautiful white robes stained with blood. His body was rigid, yet calm, like a man at prayer, which he might have been, save for the knife clenched in his fist.