Writer Blog

Catacombs: Distaste for Soup

(View story so far here!)
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Lydia tried to silently rise from her seat; she wanted a better view of the kitchen. Her chair let out the faintest of squeaks. She froze and stared at Gretta.

Gretta put her bowl down, “you might as well stop looking for that exit, child. I am far too fast for you. Was the soup too cold?”

“Are you the monster they say roams the catacombs?” Lydia asked, craning her neck to get a better view of the kitchen.

Gretta picked at her teeth, “I suppose I have been a monster a time or two down here, but I don’t believe I have stories,” she paused, turned her head towards Lydia, and flashed a crooked grin, “Do I frighten you?”

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