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Description
Posted 10-13-18

Welp, time to write a REALLY edgy short story :v

⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩

🙐⬩🙑⬩🙒⬩🙓⬩🙔⬩🙕⬩🙖⬩🙗⬩🙘🙙🙚🙛🙜🙝🙞🙟🙠🙡🙢🙣🙤🙥🙦🙧 ♦✦The White Cat of Puddocky✦♦ 🙘🙙🙚🙛🙜🙝🙞🙟🙠🙡🙢🙣🙤🙥🙦🙧⬩🙐⬩🙑⬩🙒⬩🙓⬩🙔⬩🙕⬩🙖⬩🙗

♦◆♦

“The royal King, fearful to lose his throne, sets off each and every of his sons out to quest the land. Many died immediately, on their way to conquer lands far away from the kingdom they hailed from, as the king meekly grieved his losses — though not completely sincerely.

One of the princes followed a path and simply went towards the forest, passing tree by tree to a small cabin. The cabin was where he dreamt of a foggy world, within the marshes as a frog mouthed the words,”I love you.” The Prince left off again to journey through the foliage, only to get lost.

The lost Prince wandered aimlessly in the rainy woods, wafting in the muddy ground, until he tripped.

He fell off the earth.

...

But... he finds not a frog in the dreary swamp he dreamt of, but a patch of flowers as the sun shines down. The prince then hears a faint meow.

He turns to find not one cat, but many, as the young man gazes upon a fanciful and enchanted castle. One of the furry creatures emerges from the crowd of its brethren, and kindly asks the prince to chop off her own head off. She says by doing this she will have the curse upon her kingdom lifted and return every one of her subjects become human again.

As the man prepares to ready his sword, he requests upon doing so to have the cat give him a bride and the entire castle before him. The feline obliges on the promise, and swiftly gets slain by the traveller.

The Cat lied.

The Witch emerged from her butchered prison as the entire community of cats bled out and slowly evaporated into black dust. She laughed and laughed, as the prince fell onto his back, whimpering in fear as the witch bared her fangs to him.

The woman standing before the child was a beautiful young woman, in the form of a cackling silhouette with no face, but with a shining white smile. The blood from her old body melted and shaped together, the skin and its fur grew and grew, as the last breath was the black fog dissipating in the wind.

The blood shaped the witch’s child, a beautiful young Girl the same age of the prince in the entrance of the castle. Her skin pale, her hair black, and her face looking as dead and gloomy as a corpse’s. The only word she knew was the wetness of the air.

The skin shaped the witch’s pet, a handsome Wolf with teeth as sharp as the shape of a perfect triangle. His fur black, a smile split across the face, and his eyes being two black, sunken holes belonging to a corpse’s. The only word he knew was the hotness of fire.

And the breath shaped the witch’s friend, a crescent-shaped Grin stretching across the black mass of smoke in the town. Their gas thick, their vapor black, and their grimace as haunting and freezing as a corpse’s. The only word they knew was the coldness of the water"

⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩

they l̶i̶v̶e̶d̶ happily ever after

Description
Posted 10-13-18

Welp, time to write a REALLY edgy short story :v

⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩

🙐⬩🙑⬩🙒⬩🙓⬩🙔⬩🙕⬩🙖⬩🙗⬩🙘🙙🙚🙛🙜🙝🙞🙟🙠🙡🙢🙣🙤🙥🙦🙧 ♦✦The White Cat of Puddocky✦♦ 🙘🙙🙚🙛🙜🙝🙞🙟🙠🙡🙢🙣🙤🙥🙦🙧⬩🙐⬩🙑⬩🙒⬩🙓⬩🙔⬩🙕⬩🙖⬩🙗

♦◆♦

“The royal King, fearful to lose his throne, sets off each and every of his sons out to quest the land. Many died immediately, on their way to conquer lands far away from the kingdom they hailed from, as the king meekly grieved his losses — though not completely sincerely.

One of the princes followed a path and simply went towards the forest, passing tree by tree to a small cabin. The cabin was where he dreamt of a foggy world, within the marshes as a frog mouthed the words,”I love you.” The Prince left off again to journey through the foliage, only to get lost.

The lost Prince wandered aimlessly in the rainy woods, wafting in the muddy ground, until he tripped.

He fell off the earth.

...

But... he finds not a frog in the dreary swamp he dreamt of, but a patch of flowers as the sun shines down. The prince then hears a faint meow.

He turns to find not one cat, but many, as the young man gazes upon a fanciful and enchanted castle. One of the furry creatures emerges from the crowd of its brethren, and kindly asks the prince to chop off her own head off. She says by doing this she will have the curse upon her kingdom lifted and return every one of her subjects become human again.

As the man prepares to ready his sword, he requests upon doing so to have the cat give him a bride and the entire castle before him. The feline obliges on the promise, and swiftly gets slain by the traveller.

The Cat lied.

The Witch emerged from her butchered prison as the entire community of cats bled out and slowly evaporated into black dust. She laughed and laughed, as the prince fell onto his back, whimpering in fear as the witch bared her fangs to him.

The woman standing before the child was a beautiful young woman, in the form of a cackling silhouette with no face, but with a shining white smile. The blood from her old body melted and shaped together, the skin and its fur grew and grew, as the last breath was the black fog dissipating in the wind.

The blood shaped the witch’s child, a beautiful young Girl the same age of the prince in the entrance of the castle. Her skin pale, her hair black, and her face looking as dead and gloomy as a corpse’s. The only word she knew was the wetness of the air.

The skin shaped the witch’s pet, a handsome Wolf with teeth as sharp as the shape of a perfect triangle. His fur black, a smile split across the face, and his eyes being two black, sunken holes belonging to a corpse’s. The only word he knew was the hotness of fire.

And the breath shaped the witch’s friend, a crescent-shaped Grin stretching across the black mass of smoke in the town. Their gas thick, their vapor black, and their grimace as haunting and freezing as a corpse’s. The only word they knew was the coldness of the water"

⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩⬩

they l̶i̶v̶e̶d̶ happily ever after