THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED ME
Instead, he leaned back against a mahogany shelf, his casual sweater bunching at his shoulders.
He looked at the stack of books on my desk, his eyes lingering on a tattered spine I had tucked at the bottom.
"Wait, is that THE STAND?" he asked, pointing to the thick paperback.
I looked down, my eyes landing on the book he was referring to.
It was a survival horror story. Something about an alien invasion and humans getting wiped out one by one.
"Oh. Yes. I’ve read it three times, but I find comfort in the end of the world sometimes. It makes my own feel... manageable."
Hot Chapters