The Malformed Realm is an incarnation of hell in it's most abstractly horrifying form.
A single village of children think they are the only inhabitants beside the upper class society they provide sustenance to. The elements of nature are the gods th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The leaves crunched under the boy's shoes, cold biting at his skin, wind slapping his face. Yet he ground his teeth and continued onward. He kept on running.
Far.
Too far.
Too long.
This journey would have been the most amazing of ventures to him had the circumstances been different. But now was not the time for regrets.
He had to find them.
He had to do something.
Because...even if it hurt him to death, this was a reality he had to confront. This was his only chance. Their only chance.
For he no longer had home.
None of them had.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"STOP!" A sharp tone cut through the looming stillness of time. It broke something within the frame of tension, and the frozen world seemed to start moving again.
That voice.
Life came flooding back inside Beatrice as she heaved and gasped for breath. For a moment she had become as still as a rock. Fear had choked her.
"Jonathan!" All the girls screamed. Beatrice looked at Orlando smirking.
"He maybe keeping his bones after all," he ended with a grunt.
Beatrice turned to see Jonathan stand at the other end of the bridge, now rapidly advancing in their direction. Two other girls accompanied him.
Grace seethed at the sight, Beatrice could tell. She put a hand on her shoulder.
The thought of seeing her closest friend being potentially manipulated did not sit well with Grace, Beatrice gauged. It had overtaken her otherwise calm and caring nature. But was that the truth? Or was that something borne of a cautious and speculative mind? Only the events following would tell. Beatrice was not going to judge somebody she had never even met with baseless accusations. However, their condition and the present turn of events begged her to differ. Yet she was somehow holding on to hope. Two villages could not successively turn out to be malicious, right? But what else would one call this present situation?
