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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Occult · #2048511
a meeting bewteen lost souls
The fog was thick as Judas' tears as the Principled Man stepped onto the beach. he looked up at the sky but there was no moon tonight only a starless sky as if even the heavens dreaded what would transpire tonight. Up ahead through the fog, he saw three figures, a willowy young girl, a voluptuous matron, and a bent old crone standing around a fire. they turned as one, to regard him with yellow eyes as he approached the fire. the Principled Man blinked smoke from his eyes. then began to speak in a deep rumbling voice that did not fit his gaunt appearance.

as the Principled Man spoke the Matron and the Maiden began to scream then he stopped speaking and regarded his handy work. the Matron and the Maiden now had one eye between them. the matrons breasts had withered and sagged. he turned to the Crone who was giving him a hungry look.brushing sand from his bare feet the Principled Man took the Crone by the hand and they entered the tent that they found sitting a short way up the beach.

just as the sun crested the horizon the last screams of the Principled Man died away. a young woman already heavy with child. licking the Principled Man's blood from her hands she returned to give new life to her dying people
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