Are you brave enough to face your deepest fears? Bella Darkwood is back with Shivers volume 2, a bone-chilling collection of horror stories that will leave you breathless. From cosmic horror to body horror, from tales of deep sea terror to supernatu...
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Amelia and Sarah had always shared a connection so profound it seemed to transcend the boundaries of physicality. They shared dreams, emotions, secrets; now they had decided to share faces. Their love was so intertwined that they sought to embody each other, to gaze into the world through the other's eyes, to smile with the other's lips, to feel the world with the other's skin.
In the low light of Amelia's basement, surrounded by medical paraphernalia, the two women stared at each other, their hearts pounding. The sterile scent of alcohol swabs and the strange intimacy of the surgical tools on the table between them lent the room an unsettling aura.
"You ready, Amie?" Sarah asked, her voice trembling.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Amelia responded, her fingers tight around a scalpel. With a dose of self-administered anesthetic, their faces had become numb canvases, ready for the artwork of an uncanny exchange.
With surgical precision, they incised, each stroke on their own face echoed by the other. The pain was negligible, but the sensation of blade sliding through flesh was sickeningly visceral. Their faces came away like the peeled skins of ripe fruit. The room spun as they admired their visages, detached, bloodless masks in their hands.
They swapped faces, eyes wide and staring at each other through bloody slits. A meticulous job of sowing began, the thin strings pulling the skin taut over foreign bones. The skin knitted well with their flesh, the thin line of raw, red inflammation the only sign of their horrific swap.
Hours turned into a day as they reveled in their new lives, exploring each other’s identities with an unnerving curiosity. But dusk rolled around, and it was time to return what was borrowed.
"Sarah," Amelia began, her voice carrying an ominous note. "I don't think I want to give it back."
Sarah stared at her, a chill running down her spine. "What? Amie, it's a game. We agreed. Give it back."
Amelia's smile was a sickening sight on Sarah's face. "I don't think so, dear."
Sarah lunged for Amelia, a desperate fight erupting as they grappled with each other, each with the intention of reclaiming her face. The once sterile basement became a stage for a macabre dance, a struggle of identity and obsession.
Amelia wielded a scalpel, slashing and hacking. The sterile scent of the room was overpowered by the coppery tang of blood. Gore splattered on the white tiles, a horrific testament to their act.
"No!" Sarah screamed, writhing in pain as Amelia towered over her, victorious.
Amelia, wearing Sarah's face, watched her former self bleed out on the basement floor. Her chest heaved with exhilaration, her smile wide and grotesque, an uncanny puppet master holding another's face hostage.
The terror in Sarah's eyes, reflected in the polished steel of the scalpel, was the last thing Amelia saw before the room plunged into darkness. The silence of the basement was broken only by the quiet hum of the air conditioning and the echoes of a love that had spiraled into a horror too grotesque to comprehend.
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