Where Stillness Had Fangs
The woods are alive with sounds of birds and the rustle of leaves—brittle and soft.Though it sits in the middle of the woods, the shack is lifeless; quiet and still.Its rickety clapboard exterior is intact, interrupted only by a warped and dusty wooden door and windows.
Temporary Refuge
I jump past him and his weapon as I run for cover, crouching under the table for a brief escape. His cursing and shouting follow as Mahoney chairs crash into each other, the crack of the belt against furniture as it scores several misses.