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Arthur takes another deep breath before he continues. "And they were a couple; they were married to each other. According to the information I've gathered, Yoon Choi died of terminal cancer. And after one year, his husband's lifeless body was found at the lakeside. I tried to dig up some information about them and asked someone to go to the place where they found Peach. But the place was closed and had a high wall. The old man who guarded the places didn't allow my people to enter. He said the place was private property. Only his master can go in there. I asked my secretary to gather some information about the owner of the place and..." Arthur takes another deep breath before he proceeds aga

An hour later, after searching for anything to help us within books that ranged from brand new to hundreds of years old, I huffed with disappointment and decided to stretch my legs; my pale finger trailed over the spines of books, dust painting my fingertip. Once I reached the poetry section, I smiled brightly. All around me were books from Silvia Plath, Edgar Allan Poe, Emily Dickson, Robert Frost, and many others that were like my old friends. Taking a random book off the shelf, I flipped through its contents. "(...) Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home." ~ Tecumseh "You enjoy poetry too?" A familiar voice spoke behind me, making my heart speed up as I jumped slightly. Turn

Hey again So yes I didn't give you guys a new chapter Cause I want to do that next year 2020 is almost over and am so happy I ready hope next year gets better But am realky grateful to God for a lot of things Okay here are some cool Werewolf poetry I happen to have found Note non of these are mine, I simply got them form the Internet, am not trying to impress anyone Am going to be posting them with the copy rite and all So enjoy......

I know I should tell them where I'm going but I just need to be alone for a while. Drake and Archer find me at the park an hour later. Not sure if my family realized I was gone this late or they were giving me time to cool off. I'm trying to perfect the forward flip off the ramp but I'm having a hell of a time perfecting it. I can't land it, not once.

Nevertheless, I pushed forward, my fingertips dancing across the keyboard, searching for the elusive truths hidden in the vast expanse of the internet. Websites appeared and disappeared on the screen like fleeting phantoms, their pages teeming with folklore, legends, and ancient myths. I delved into the dusty archives, immersing myself in tales of creatures that prowled the night, their ethereal beauty and insatiable hunger casting a spell over unsuspecting victims.

My heart started to beat fast in my chest. How many times had she seen us at our worst? How much had we hurt her without even realizing it? Feeling overwhelmed, I turned to the next page and found a short poem scribbled in her neat handwriting. It was about stars, rivers, and memories. Reading her words, I felt a sense of peace and calm wash over me. It was as if Val was speaking to me through her poetry, reminding me of the beauty and wonder of life.

“This is the fifth place we have been too. How many more little fucking hiding places does your sister have?” I signed and walked towards a fallen tree that was being propped up by neighbouring timber. Lifting my nose to the air, I inhaled deeply, hoping to detect her scent, but there was nothing. Just like the other places we had visited. They were all cold and absent of any signs of her entity. Where the hell was she? I ducked underneath the wide old rotting oak and made my way through the clearing to a shallow stream that rippled underneath the moonlight. This place was picturesque, even in the night’s sky and so far from the sort of place I imagined Tia visiting, but it was yet another d

The V line around his waist clearly visible for her to see made her suddenly remember what he looked like, naked. Gosh, this was harder than she thought. For goodness sake, she wanted to just sleep. Should she just poison him and make him go to sleep or... An evil smirk formed on her lips when she thought of something. She could make him think that she was ready to have sex with him and then, she'll have the chance to put one of her poisons on his manhood and then... Hehe. She giggled internally as she imagined what his reaction would be if he started to uncontrollable scratch that place. Of course it won't kill him.

I tossed my keys into the bowl by the door and headed straight to my room, dropping my bag onto the floor. I opened my laptop. Searched his name. I avoided social media apps first. Instead, I typed in variations of it. Ezra Philips. Professor Ezra Philips. College poetry department. Faculty list. Past lecturers. Anything. Most of the results were dead ends or outdated web pages. Some led to news articles about poetry readings or school events, but none of them had any personal information. There were no public profiles, no links to anything recent. I scrolled until my eyes hurt. Then I found it.

Just search for: p a t r e o n . c o m / k t i s h 7 Find me on facebook: facebook.com/ktish7 Thank you!