Hands off my Grave |Ongoing|

Hands off my Grave |Ongoing|

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación mié, nov 28, 2018
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Ficción
Terror
Etiquetasgorehorror
"you touched her grave, didn't you?" My best friend asked me. As much as I hate to say no, I would only be lying and touching it was something I regretted the most in my life. "You made her mad. she wont stop until she can rest back in peace."
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Unmask

"You trust me, don't you?" he says with a smile, that smile. It had fooled everyone, even me at some point, and for the first time I want to scream with rage and shake the earth to the core. "Give me a hug," he says pulling me out of the chair that feels like a rock underneath me. I am as stiff as a board as his hands circle me, making me feel worse than dirt. His hands reach between my thighs and I want to plunge a knife deep through his chest. The only thing stopping me is, the knife is no where near. I pull back and I don't try to hide the anger in my eyes. I want him to see it. To know that I am coming for him. Rape is chanted repeatedly in my mind, reminding of the lies I just told and the false accusations I am throwing on innocent people. He's probably figured it out anyways, surely a Priest as high as he cannot be deceived. But none of that matters anymore because...... This is just the Beginning.

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