Skip to content
Beneath the Surface
Category: Thriller
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The end.