#ghosties!!

[happyheidi]

Art by Katherine Blower 👻

[thewardenofwinter]

Current Wip Monday Tuesday

Is it really a Morana post if I actually get it done on the correct day? The lovely Nopal over at @writernopal tagged me in this one! Thank you very much. You can find their post here.

Rules: Post something you wrote for your current wip, from the last week. if you haven’t updated it in some time, here’s your chance!!

Chapter 1 of What We Undertake

“Yes?” Dolores called over her shoulder, turning back around at a woman who was no longer there. In her place stood a horrid figure, skeletal and withered. Black flesh dripped from exposed bones, mouth pried open into a permanent scream to reveal black and rotted teeth. It carried the found smell of sulfur and rotten flesh. It's one pale eye settled on Dolores, like a predator settling in on meek prey. Dolores fell onto her back and let out a yell, crawling backwards until she hit the metal door with a loud thud. Her lame leg ached in pain from the impact, but the keen that slipped from Dolores's pale lips was not one of pain, but fear. The figure stalked forward, its footsteps seemingly singing the floor beneath it. It let out as strangled, pained moan one would only utter in utter agony. The sound shook Dolores to her core, sending her into a cold sweat. With every step that the creature took closer, she could feel her heart pick up pace. Unable to take any more sight of the creature, Dolores closed her eyes. “I am alive, I am alive, I am alive,” Dolores repeated frantically, her voice quiet and shaking. It was a phrase she had embedded in her skull from the age of eight, the only phrase that seemed to rid of these creatures. Cold, bony fingers drag along her cheeks. She went rigid in place, turning her face away from the touch. Her bottom lip began to tremble, her teeth clattering in my mouth and eyes prickling with tears.   "Dol...ores..." it croaked out in a voice so hoarse that she barely recognized her own name. Slowly the creature removed it's fingers, the cold touch dissipating. The only sound let was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the far corner: no footsteps, no groaning. Dolores pried her eyes open, and she was once again alone in the mortuary, spare for the body of Miss Brown to her right. The flames on the candles slowly returned, and her pupil adjusted to the changing of lighting. Heaving in a breath, Dolores leaned the back of her head against the wall, sweat dripping down her temple. If it wasn’t for the doors that swung open behind her and sent her sliding across the cold tile beneath her, she might have just lost consciousness.

It is no longer Monday but I am very gently poking @indigowriting @zestymimblo @sam-glade @captain-kraken and @elshells. If any of you already did this please link it in the comments I love reading all your WIPs!

—M. Warrin

[ask-bowtieboi]

purple

Michey: W-what do I b-believe in? Well, I s-suppose, uh, I b-b-believe in magic, because of Wr-Writer, and gh-ghosts, because I’m f-friends with some ghost t-types!