It was a shadowy and threatening wind. A ‘Black Death’ shroud enveloped me in a twirling tornado of sharp knives and steel spikes, pinning me motionless against cold ancient limestone of my beloved medieval church at the base of Monte Chimera. Hopeless and lifeless, the airs of screaming ghosts and infernal ghouls were drawn from the deepest bowels of the earth…
First Lines Contest 2018: Caves of Chimera
The First Lines Contest 2018 is closed. Please submit your vote in the current year.