My Bloody Rose
Description
Monsters are everywhere. The reality is so difficult to believe, but it is what it is. It’s just so easy to hide in such a large, naïve world. When the streets are stained red, it’s not paint. Screams in the night aren’t just part of your imagination. If you feel like someone’s watching you, it’s very likely that it’s not even a someone but a something. I’m telling you, you’re surrounded.
That boy in line at the theater with his group of friends? He’s a monster. That girl right there, kissing her boyfriend’s neck so tenderly? She’s a monster.
Monsters are everywhere. It’s just all too easy for them to hide.
I should know.
~
Oh my gaaaawd, I just had to go and start up another story because I got this idea and it's totally different to my other stories. Comments and subscribers are so very welcome, I hope you enjoy, and I'll update as soon as possible!
~Additional preview:
I woke up the next morning, exhausted. Memories of the previous evening came back to me slowly, permeating my awareness like dye stains paper, and after a while of remaining motionless, I finally started to move. I didn’t notice until I saw it with my own eyes that there was no longer a wolf in my arms, and my brain refused to register that something else had taken its place.
Because his back was to me, I didn’t see his face right away. I was now holding a very human man in my arms, his body bare save for a pair of tattered jeans he wore over his lower half. I held my breath, my heart hammering, and I think that’s what tipped him off. Beginning to stir, the black-haired young man turned in my arms and looked right at me, his expression neutral. His eyes scanned my face sleepily before he spoke in a very soft voice that was doubly commanding. “Don’t be noisy.”
And so I started to yell at him.
Foreword
"Hey, beautiful, why don't you walk on over here and let me show you what it's like to ride yourself a stallion!"
"Is that your momma? Boy, we sure do gotta thank her, don't we, guys?"
"And we gotta thank your momma's momma too, 'cause that woman's a MILF!"
I didn't look at the scumbags harassing my mom and I. I looked at her instead, uncomfortable because of what they were saying, but unable to do anything about it. It was just like any other night walking down the city streets, needing to go to the grocery store because we were out of too many things. Dad was working so he couldn’t accompany us, and it was already dark enough that the hooligans were confident enough to begin their usual shenanigans without restraint. It was supposed to be my fault, though, just because I was wearing jeans that were “too tight” and because I should’ve zipped up my sweater. I'm sure I was a horrible temptation.
My mom shook her head at me and kept walking, unfortunately more experienced with such situations. We got into the store quickly and left the group of guys outside, and I prayed they’d be gone by the time we were done.
They weren’t.
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