Gabriel Vargas
Stories (2/0)
The Factory
My pen touches the pad as I strain against the fading memories to record such misfortune before it takes me further like it did her. No, I must not think of her, archiving these events are more important than my own sanity; subconsciously I place my hand on the heart-shaped locket around my neck. By tonight, there is no doubt I will be one of the empty. Once these accounts are finished, I am sure to consider my own path to the next world than the one laid before me. Internally hoping and praying that those who find these accounts are able to decipher my hastily scratched words.
By Gabriel Vargas3 years ago in Horror
The Forest
The never-ending sight of trees surrounded the couple, turning left, or to the right; it was in no particular direction that their straining vision would capture any sort of landmark to point the way. The overhead branches blocked out what light there might have been, and they both longed for the brisk air of the mountains of Tulsiria that they called home. A perfect place with that familiar light always obstructed by rock and snow. The two days that led them here, and the thought of the days to come brought upon the feeling of hopeless dread and their minds, in a slow and unnerving quietness understood that they might never escape. It was, however, not for their own safety which concerned them; but for that of their infantile daughter.
By Gabriel Vargas3 years ago in Fiction