Saturday, January 31, 2015

NINE LIVES - BY BLAZE MCROB - IS THIS WEEK'S SCARY SATURDAY TALE!

It lurks in the undergrowth. It lurks from deep within. One life may not be enough to read this week's newest ‪#‎horror‬ ‪#‎fiction‬: NINE LIVES http://wp.me/p2iKoL-N9 by Blaze McRob, only from Pen of the Damned.
The edges of the jungle dance to the tune played by the vibrant colors of the burning village, twisting, cavorting shadows interspersed with the unknown entities hiding beyond where no light will g...
penofthedamned.com
 
 
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I have only included a snippet to post here of my story Nine Lives. The entire story can be read on the Pen Of The Damned website along with many other tales from our twisted members. All these tales are for the price of free. We hold nothing back. Our goal is to bring you to the Damned side. Come. Join us.

Blaze McRob

Nine Lives

The edges of the jungle dance to the tune played by the vibrant colors of the burning village, twisting, cavorting shadows interspersed with the unknown entities hiding beyond where no light will go.
I know what lurks within the boundaries of the dense undergrowth. Most of what resides there is not good. Death lives and thrives at its core and spreads out to capture ever more territory when the veil of darkness works in its favor.
For now, at least, the fire is saving those of us still alive from being entombed within the snare of annihilation. I wonder if that’s a good thing, though. Sure, we’re saved for now, but at what cost? Capture later on? Torture?
Some fucking life! Yet, some of us can’t condone rolling over and accepting a fate of doom. Better to resist and fight ’til the end than to subjugate yourself to the wishes of the tormentors.
Fuck! I don’t make the rules. This is war. One side wins; one side loses. It’s as simple as that.
Most of the villagers waste no time in leaving their former homes. No sense in staying now. All that remains is burned rubble and ash. We help those who will accept it to get on their way. Their stares tell me what I already know without a word having been spoken: the burning of their village, the forced evacuation from their meager existence, it’s our fault. Yeah, in their minds, the ‘Cong were after us and they are paying the penalty for this retaliatory strike . . .

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