No rest for the wicked, they have to worry, about their next meal, ghosts exist in all sorts of places, their spirits dream, possessed, and contained, within the body of a virgin, feeding on feelings, the corner of your eye, what’s there, a door, they’re inside, banging, just hammering away, a new sword, for your eighteenth birthday, let your dad try it first, break it in, by the time you’re ready, it will be wet, smooth sailing, ready perfectly, for your entrance, happy on your face, ending…


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.