Stories From The Dead Soil, Pt III
I write this with a sleep-deprived, quivering hand. The onslaught just stopped. I pray to whatever unholy god this land […]
I write this with a sleep-deprived, quivering hand. The onslaught just stopped. I pray to whatever unholy god this land […]
Next morning. The creatures of the night are silent, not visible. The cool morning air is inviting and has a
Part I I didn’t want to find this place. Their awful yowling caused me great distress, I became lost and