A random short story I found from my school works I don't remember writing
Piliging was a profession. Hearing the sound of a metal shovel hitting the dirt was a luxury. Hitting those coffins felt like hitting the jackpot. However, the tightly closed coffins offered a stifled pungent odor at the slightest crevice of its doors, yet the prize was worth it. Just then, a billow of fog vastly decreased all small things in the dark. That was when an unfamiliar sound could be heard among the distance, temporarily stalling any further actions. The fog moved slightly to reveal vultures encasing the perimeter, there was no way to escape. Conceiving a plan to fight seemed like the best option.
The ability to foresight the upcoming action vexed the vultures, now creating a dire acute situation. Growing wary of the vulture's behavior, the only thing left to do was run. It was almost like they knew what was happening because they swooped down, making raspy, drawn-out hissing sounds. Causing a horizontal imbalance that threw a live corpse directly on top of a dead one, having it slam shut with a loud bang. They have come to claim their next victim
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𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙑𝙀𝙉 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝘽𝘼𝘾𝙆 // Story Book
RandomWhere I make stories about my oc's and sometimes other people's oc's as well. Sometimes angst, horror, fluff, and other things will be in here
