Her name was #lotus but she asked people to call her Lottie in the hopes they’d think it was short for Charlotte. Only her parents knew the truth, and she planned to keep it that way.
There was a #phantasm following her, she was sure of it. Glimpsed only as a black shadow darting from the edge of her vision, but its presence raised gooseflesh down her spine like raindrops. Death was coming for her, and soon.
The #craven watched them as they stumbled through the night, half-blind. Its three eyes lingered a moment before it let out an almighty caw and took flight. With a dozen beats of his wings, he smoothed away the clouds and the light of the full moon illuminated their path.
Every #century was the same. He drank his fill and looked for something more to afterlife. As ever, it eluded him and his thoughts turned to dessication.
“Victor, have you heart?” Charles called out to him. “They’re saying they’ve found a cure.”
This he had to see.
#Smoke rose lazily to the sky, in much less of a hurry than the ravenous flames it danced above. It crept under doors and through the cracks of windows warning of the destruction that followed.
She traced the freckles down Laura’s spine. A galaxy #motif against alabaster skin where new constellations were constantly being discovered.
How many times had she wished for #wings? To fly away and never look back. She’d never imagined they’d belong to a dragon. Let alone that it would let her close enough to ride it.