Literature
Broken Dreams + Tattered Wings
Broken Dreams and Tattered Wings
Nighttime, the quiet gentle portion of the day, when all people with good intentions sleep, preparing themselves for another hard day of good solid work. This night however, things would change for the worse, and it started with a scream. That scream, a primal sound of rage and hate, echoed from the lungs of a thin, golden skinned monster, face obscured by a mask of pure white as it ducked and wove through the village, torchlight dancing as the flames licked hungrily at thatched roofs. Spreading fire, spreading death, a grim farmer at his task, the monster flung the torch it bore far and hard, cackling insan