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Good Horror

"Good lord."

The sound of slicing carrots from the kitchen was overoded with whatever sort of noise from the room of the other side. Not that the lady minded anyways, it was a sort of comfortable noise and reassurance that the kids do enjoy it here and held a certain point of comfortability. At least they weren't at all a silent suffering shell. In the other room, the kids were everywhere. Some doing risky thing, like trying to do creative tricks off a ladder, and others talking to their little group. A group of friends laid on the upper bunkers and a few kids were under one of the beds and figured that they started gossiping of heated arguments. Right in the middle of the room was a relatively small number of kids, playing a game of Duck Duck Goose maybe. They hit each other's heads as hard as they could and each reaction they got had rendered poor Jack into a wheezing gasping mess. The girl next to him was looking like she's having the time of her life, and maybe she is. Smiling beauty that could have won this year's beauty contest, was Jane -without-a-last-name. (And although she did have a last name, she prefers not to use it.) And Jane, all bright eyed and such and angel, holy and sweet and you could easily compare it to a toddler who got a bite of his first candy, was having the time of her life. _____ Alternatively, from the author. I guess you could call it a contest submission that and I am always driven by spite and also money. A friend sent this to me and somehow that turned on a sense that I should join this. WSA 2022 submission (If I recited that correctly since I'm on mobile and all) Fantasy and number 4. A female lead who's a vampire dumped at a orphanage or something. Realizes she's a vampire, goes be mature. Decided to write some backbone, a past to look back into for the future chapters. If I get more than a 100K words that would be a relief, if I get an award I think I'll just use that for my first Iphone and use that to play Genshin for the first time. ( I'll touch grass I promise. Why are most of you pay to win in that game anyway lmao) After this is done I might rewrite most things, all I'm doing now is writing every single thing that comes into mind. Though that's not assured yet. My laziness has it's ways with me. No discord, I can't manage it. No way to support me with money, I can't manage that too. Vote stuff, put whatever little thing you want in your comments, and I'll respond with memes and maybe an actual good reply. If you recognize me outside of social media, for one, this is hell, and two, I can't help but use punctuation every damn time.
RRRitz · 3.9K Views

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DISCLAIMER: This story is not owned by me. All rights belong to the original author and copyright holder. This copy is provided for offline reading purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended, and if the rightful owner requests removal, it will be taken down immediately. The washed-up magician Zong Jiu transmigrated into a horror, infinite flow novel about a survival show, taking the place of the cannon fodder who died tragically in the first evaluation round. This show was very interesting. Out of the tens of thousands of people, only a hundred people could survive, and the c-position (strongest contender) could even get a universal wish ticket. If it were someone else, they’d probably be scared to death. No one expected that Zong Jiu was not only unafraid, but also caused a sensational stir, shamelessly showing off his tricks the whole way. Once his tricks stopped, and his life could be considered safe and sound, he ended up in a rivalry with the novel’s big villain. Today you try to get at me, tomorrow I’ll get you back, back and forth, it’s pretty fun, heh. As a result, though it was just playing around, one time they got carried away and really did end up sleeping together. Watching the nemesis who was pressing him to the ground, Zong Jiu lazily lifted his gaze. “If you want to kill me then kill me, don’t speak nonsense.” Even when at a disadvantage, he showed no trace of fear, and actually continued to provoke him. That person used his ice-cold finger to trace his ear, and the action heading toward the aorta suddenly stopped. “What a pity. I’ve changed my mind.” — He was once very willing to personally give Zong Jiu death. Every day, he used to regret not gouging out his flesh, personally snapping his neck. But after this person fell into his hands, another, more urgent desire grew like weeds. Compared to winning or losing, he would rather see him crying and panting, with eyes red, begging for mercy.
zarawang · 22.1K Views
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