PREVIEW
... and young. Women and men. Newborns that never took a breath. Fetuses torn from silence—not one, but many.
All of them bound to the old man like rusted chains forged from suffering. They clung to him in layers, draped over him like a cloak of the damned, their translucent forms barely visible—moaning, screaming, whispering.
And they cursed him. Not with magic or hexes, But with emotion. Pure, unfiltered rage. Crushing sorrow. Jealousy so sharp it could cut through reality and was ...
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE