And the angel left me to die. The angle fled hell and climbed the steep stairwell to heaven... Leaving death behind in its path. There was no angel now to guide me, nor to heal my bloodied wounds. I was dying. And my angel knew it. But the darkness was drawing in, and the wind was blowing harder, through the crevasses of the wooden stable door. But I had hope, and hope was all I needed. The devils son was my hope. And I hated that...
How did you like this story?
Your feedback helps Ringo360 understand what's working
@Ringo360
Lost in the world
Similar Stories
Comments & Feedback (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts!
Want to join the conversation? Sign in to leave a comment.