Apocalypse Theory

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Photo by Linus Sandvide / Unsplash

Click, Click, Click. Sweat streamed down Akasha’s face, slender fingers working the lock. The dungeon was humid reeking of mildew. Faint footfalls grew closer; her heart raced. Suddenly the chest blinked. Chests weren’t suppose to blink, were they?. A wide toothy mouth appeared with a long purple tongue, with a slurping sound Akasha was gone.

Apocalypse Theory

A creative journey exploring the end.

Apocalypse Theory

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