Krystin Harrington
Bio
I’m just a girl from Arizona who hates the heat, so I stay inside and write :) I’m working on a book, and I will probably post it bit by bit, so please give me feedback!
Stories (4/0)
Dead Man Walking
EXT. – SEATTLE WOODS - DUSK (The year is 2045, set in the woods of Seattle. The scene opens with ELIZABETH on the ground, with an arrow in her chest. Ominous boots in slow motion walk past her, then begin running. AMARI is running after the shooter and is unsuccessful. Cut scene to three months prior. Transition idea: suspense notes ascending into black)
By Krystin Harringtonabout a year ago in Fiction
The Reflection of My Reflection
Darkness. The first and only thing he could remember was darkness. He could not remember how long he had been in this state, for his memory was not vast, but even so, it was an eternity¬ of twilight; until he heard her. Distant and delicate at first, one he might have not noticed had he not been surrounded by silence. Her voice seemed to pierce through the black that surrounded him. To him, this was the most divine and heavenly thing he had ever experienced. Had he not heard, he never should have known how dreary his existence truly was. Faint, gentle, like an angel her voice was. He followed the echo whenever it dared to resonate in the endless abyss that was his home. When it ceased, he had nothing left to pursue, so he paused and waited to hear it once more in hopes that he would find her, whoever she was.
By Krystin Harringtonabout a year ago in Fiction
Six Feet Under
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Tilly had always walked this path home from work at the diner, but never alone; Ollie walked her home every night. Ollie would always say, “Listen Til, us women gotta stick together. You never know what kind of creepers are hiding in the bushes and whatnot. I’m just lookin’ out for the both of us.” Her thick New York accent made it sound more light hearted than it was, but she was right, as per usual. Tilly was much more timid than her fearless best friend. While Ollie preferred roller coasters, horror movies, and true crime documentaries, Tilly would rather stay inside and read her favorite book of the week, or cozy up with a nice blanket by the fire sipping hot apple cider.
By Krystin Harrington2 years ago in Fiction
