" Do not you dare die on me, Dante. Stay awake. Look at me!" Bianca shoved the cabin door shut, the wood moaning against the howling wind. Dante drooped against the gravestone domicile, his face the color of wet ash. Blood, dark and thick, pumped steadily from the jagged hole in his shoulder, staining the floorboards. " The tackle. Bianca, the nethermost cupboard," Dante rasped. His jaw creaked as he base his teeth, cold sweat pelleting on his forepart. She climbed across the bottom, knees sinking on the fortitude. She hauled out a black nylon bag, the zipper snagging doubly before it smelled into the air. A twisted needle. Fishing line. A bottle of high- evidence bourbon. " I've to go by," she said, her voice shaking. She smelled her lip until it bled." The pellet is still in there." " Just do it. Ahh! Fuck!" Dante’s head thunked back against the monuments as she poured the bourbon directly into the crack. The swish of alcohol hitting raw meat filled the small room. He dived fo
Last Updated : 2026-02-02 Read more