G*M*S Magazine Writing competition submission by Porrick Rasdole
By Porrick Rasdole I’m in front of a door. It’s dripping with green ichor running from deep veins of engraved masonry. It’s growing each step I take towards it. It takes deep breaths and exhales a sickly mist from vents along its top. My legs trembled and I fall to my knees. My arm is…
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