The quill monotonously taps on the scroll. Nothing lies on the paper. A new life, a new beginning. Beside the clean vellum there is one filled with ink, and the ink forms words. The words form sentences, and the sentences form a story. The story is filled with love and loss, dread and joy, but there is no ending. Not yet.
Spindly fingers slowly move the quill from the clean parchment, over to the story. A voice laughs a deep, vile guffaw before its hands begin to scrawl. In smooth and elegant writing, the quill inscribes the ending.
Somewhere in the world, a body falls limp.
BINABASA MO ANG
The Memoir Man
HorrorThis story entails just that: stories. Stories of lives. Stories of freedom. A lone quill scrawls the stories of all the lives in the universe. This is how it always has been, and how it always should be. Until now. Cassius Moon is alone in this wo...
