Exquisite Corpse Novels & Stories

His fingers drummed against the windowsill, the rhythm growing faster, betraying the unease he refused to name. His warriors, known for their flawless tracking skills, scoured every inch of land. Yet no matter how many warriors or hounds he sent out, they all circled back to the same place—the abandoned well. His frustration boiled over as he paced furiously around it, refusing to believe that the corpse inside was mine. Then, as if struck by sudden inspiration, he snapped his fingers. "I see it now! She must've used a Burrowing Technique—that's why the hounds keep leading us here."

Seeing him like this, I suddenly recalled how, three years ago, his eyes were just as red in anger—all because I was kneeling at the door, begging him not to kick me out. I couldn't help but smile bitterly. Zack began to carefully reassemble the flesh and bones. He continued on for a good 20 hours, not daring to rest for even a second. Finally, he managed to reassemble my entire body. Unfortunately, I was without a head—the drug dealers had fed it to the wolfhounds in order to exact their revenge. Although everyone present were experienced detectives or forensic pathologists, they still couldn't help but gag. Even I felt sick to the stomach seeing the uneven, dark red body on the autopsy tab