Added: Aliscia Quiroz - Date: 17.12.2021 19:51 - Views: 39093 - Clicks: 5203
Waves lap the shoreline.
Palm trees rustle, muffling the snores of the men round the spit-roast, whose spices linger in the salt air. Logs flicker. The last captive looks out from his cage and prays. The sounds of the forest dull around me. My eyes no longer focus in this gloom, making me squint and blink. Separated from my pack, cursed to walk on two legs. Tracy Fells has over 85 stories published in online and print journals. Tracy tweets as theliterarypig and is seeking a publisher for her short story collection. As the howls grew closer, Jerry climbed inside the plastic storage container and sealed the lid, feeling quite proud of his plan.
A man convulses in the grass, fire licking at his nerves. The pain is exquisite but familiar. He grinds his teeth to stay quiet. When his molars crack, he bites his tongue. Clothes split over gorging muscles. Niccolo Skill is an author of flash and micro fiction.
Dort awoke naked in a clearing. Snow burned her cuts and bruises as she rose to her hands and knees. She had neither muzzle nor fur, only pale skin and weak muscles. Kay Lesgo has worked as a journalist and radio personality, but now makes actual money at an office job. Kay is currently working on her first novel and several short stories and still wants to be a writer when she grows up. Jim took a bite and licked his muzzle. Arius had been lucky tonight.
A car had grazed his leg while he was walking along a moonlit country road. Greg Didaleusky has written two novels. Then she drew two intersecting circles. He grins, fangs lengthening. Michael B. Keane is a London-based writer of dark fiction.
In the ditch water a pink, hairless face, flat and round, stares back. One bite was all it took. In addition to writing, Sarah K Krenicki enjoys warm socks, soft blankets, and hot cocoa. Under the light of a full moon, a wolf convulses in the grass. She sniffed the air and recognized her pack nearby, but they were all human, too. Cursed and doomed. Jim sniffed. The driver likely never saw him. His grandfather told him a full moon represented protection to those who believed in its power. Arius stopped, raised his wolfish head, and howled.
Really, that was all they had in common. Fred was a werebear, and Charlie was a vampire. How would she choose? She flipped a coin. Sorry, your blog cannot share posts by .Werewolf short stories online
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