Modeled after Giovanni Boccaccio's classic from the 14th Century, this collection similarly brought 100+ short stories to Wattpad readers. The original's premise was simple: ten individuals entertained themselves over a span of ten days by telling a...
Steven's last words died away, replaced by the crackle of flames as Emily stoked the fire. Outside, the wind howled, whistling around the creaky corners of the old school as the blizzard continued unabated.
It was the worst storm Baileigh had seen in years, worse even than the one she and Brendan got caught in. Brendan. His face rose in her mind and she shuddered, pushing the memory away. In this world, it didn't pay to hoard memories. Neither did attachments.
Baileigh leaned forward and spat on the toe of her boot, polishing the worn leather with a piece of cloth. From the corner of her eyes, she watched the others. A bunch of strangers brought together by fate.
"Does anyone else have a story?" David asked, looking around at each of the group in turn. His eyes settled on her and she suppressed a sigh. Might as well get this over with.
"Fine. I'll go." She stared into the flickering fire, dredging up a story from the recesses of her mind.
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LUPUS
By @BaileighHiggins
Moonlight streamed through the gaps in the woven branches above Blaire's head, casting a silver net across the wooden floorboards. A cold wind wormed its way inside the treehouse and she shuddered, huddling deeper beneath the threadbare blankets that covered her.
She shifted closer to Kyle, and he mumbled in his sleep, throwing an arm across her waist. A little of the tightness in her chest eased at his nearness but he couldn't take the fear away. Not completely. It was always there. A constant companion.
A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye, sliding down to drip onto the folded jacket she used for a pillow. She ignored it, used to the ebb and flow of desperation and listened instead for the sounds.
They would start soon. The sun had set an hour ago. Long enough for them to have emerged from their lairs. Long enough for the hunt to begin. A deep mournful howl tore through the night as if in answer and the hair on the back of Blaire's neck prickled.
It's begun.
The howls rose, rising above the canopy of trees to strike fear into the heart of each living being that shivered within the dubious shelter of the forest. Then it subsided, turning instead to yips and growls as the pack co-ordinated their hunting efforts.
Blaire pitied the poor creature they got hold of tonight and lay tensed for the sounds of slaughter. The despairing cry of some hapless animal was followed by the meaty tearing of flesh and harsh snarls as the Lupus fought over their feast.
'The Lupus. Bane of our times. A raging infection roaring through our midst, tearing humanity and the world apart. This is the end of life as we know it.'
This refrain often ran through Blaire's mind when she was at her most vulnerable. A single paragraph she'd memorized from an article, one her journalist mother wrote shortly before she too fell prey to the disease. One bite was all it took. Within minutes, you'd become one of them.
