You’re walking down the street on your lunch break. It’s a nice day: sunny with an impish breeze. You turn the corner to the park, the one with your favorite bench; it’s where you go to relax. Then you see it. There. On the ground. A dead crow.
You’re walking down the street on your lunch break. It’s a nice day: sunny with an impish breeze. You turn the corner to the park, the one with your favorite bench; it’s where you go to relax. Then you see it. There. On the ground. A dead crow.
You saw something move. You swear. Right there, at the edge of the room. It was a… something. It’s been bothering you for days but every time you try to track it down, it dissipates like morning mist.
Slow Burn Horror 