Andres Montero
Stories (3/0)
The Prince's body
“Quis fecerit?” - A deep, ominous voice whispers. The floor feels wet with a thick substance. It smells and tastes like blood. Barely opening my eyes I see a figure, no, two. One feels like a man but the other is different. Tall, no light touching it. Music starts playing, and in a matter of a blink, I’m in the car, with the rest.
By Andres Montero2 years ago in Horror
Bittersweet Cinnamon
“Wake up hon, she needs you” -A faint voice called out. The smell of cinnamon filled the room. His head pounded as he reached for his phone, accidentally pushing empty bottles to the floor. He felt the coins on the table, on top of his mother’s notebook. He grabbed the closest to him and held it in front of his face barely able to read the engravings on the coin:
By Andres Montero3 years ago in Humans