BLACKBIRD / run for the hills!

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HOCUS POCUS

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HOCUS POCUS . . . @fcirylove 2022
Esther Woolridge 𝒙 Max Dennison
🌃🕸🎶🌞
Act I. :   incomplete
Act II. : incomplete
Act III. :     incomplete
Epilogue. :        incomplete








     "Little blackbird," the voice beckons in a hushed whisper. It's shrill, the kind you flinch away from. "Oh, little blackbird, it's time."

"Time for what?" Esther stares up at the wispy black shadow, her deep brown eyes wide like saucers. "Time for what?!" Her mind eases into a frantic frenzy.

The shadow does nothing—it does not move, nor shudder, shake or utter another syllable. Esther extends her tan arm, feeling around for the figure attached to the shadow. It does not exist. She does not exist. The shadow dissipates immediately following the contact of Esther's ring clad finger.

"What in the actual hell is going on here?!" Esther mumbles harshly. She crumples into a ball on the carpeted floor beneath her, screwing her eyes shut. Not a single tear was shed. A static hum muffled any another noise attempting to penetrate the barrier.

Black Bird  ✷  Max DennisonWhere stories live. Discover now