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the stories that will never end... |
Very Short Story number One: It was dark... and she was trying to find the light. She felt the knife in her hand. She was crying. She could feel his presence... she could breathe it. Would he ever leave her alone? It was worth trying? With a sigh, she scratched the wall behind her back. The wall... it was something about the wall... She touched it again, trying to remain calm, counting her sighs... her whispers... So, she was supposed to remember why she was there? She was supposed to beat all her fears? There were too many fears... Why her hand shaking, she felt the knife again... The knife! How come it was there, in her hand? Why? She felt as if she was caught in a game, a game with no ending, and no beginning, and the only chance to survive was... to give in. She took the knife, and hit the wall, as if she wanted to kill it. Big black waves of blood started to melt from the wall.She hit again. "Is this... happening in my mind?" It was not a hallucination. The wall was bleeding. With a deaf sound, the wall crashed. But what was behind that wall? Even more dark... She tried to feel something in that awful dark, hoping she will find something to help her find out where she was... And then... a metallic sound, a scratch of light... and even more blood. Solitary, the tomahawk was swinging from the tall ceiling, letting the drops of her blood touching all its surface, while it was swallowed by the dark... |