L. Sullivan
Bio
Achievements (1)
Stories (19/0)
Reginald Has a Bad Day
Sleep is a wonderful thing, Reginald wholeheartedly believes, because until this moment he was unaware of how much his neck hurt. On second thought, his head too, was beginning a steady thrum of pressure. He would have brought his hands to his temples to attempt one of those massages that never seem to work that his coworker Sherry swears by, but he couldn’t quite move his arms. When he shifted he could feel something rope-like biting into his skin, constricting his body.
By L. Sullivan 2 years ago in Fiction
You
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. You decide to approach, because no matter how many horror movies you watch you never learn, do you? Curiosity has always won out over self-preservation in your mind; that’s why you were always the kid that stuck their hand in the blacked-out mystery box at educational exhibits. When presented with such a tempting thing as an abandoned cabin, how could you resist?
By L. Sullivan 2 years ago in Horror
One Last Candle to Keep Out the Night
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Nora lit it an hour ago hoping their parents would find them first, but now... it wasn't safe. She paced back and forth on wood panels so rotted they were becoming soft and tugged almost too hard on the loose strands of her hair. Victor remained catatonic where she sat him down earlier in an almost-clean spot against a hopefully stable wall. She was older than her eight-year-old brother by six years, so it was her responsibility to get them out of this. She had to get him out.
By L. Sullivan 2 years ago in Horror
On the Tip of My Tongue
What does summer taste like? Is it sticky, multi-colored popsicles? Or gushy, still-melting and yet crunchy crumbling smore's? Does it taste like the watermelon you ate on the porch with your siblings when you were twelve? Maybe something savory on the stove-top that was worth the way it made the season's heat unbearable? I don't know. I thought about it for so many days and couldn't quite decide until I stood before the unforgiving light and subtle judgement of a fridge open too long. Then I had my answer as my eyes rested on the inconveniently tall red-and-white pressurized containment device labeled: Heavy Whipped Cream.
By L. Sullivan 2 years ago in Humans
Hide Nor Hair
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. But usually there were at least a dozen. Often, the exact variety depends on the weather. On a sunny day you can usually expect to see a few glinting Flares, some stony Rock-Gobblers, a handful of zipping Whistle-Wings, and never less than a troupe of hanging Leaf-Bobbers all mulling about in the Valley. You would never see a Flare on a rainy day, but you might see a whole colony of Mud-Slithers! The Valley was usually a treasure trove of dragon activity, which is why dragonologist Eris Fenley loved the place.
By L. Sullivan 2 years ago in Fiction