Story #23

The man sniffed the air and looked direcrly in my direction. It was as ifnhe smelled my scent.

“Each person has a distinct scent, Tiffany. You smell like…fear. Are you afraid?”

The man howled and arched his back like a werewolf. He began to walk slowly, stalking his prey: me. He had no visible weapons. This was obviously fun for him.

As he aporoached the bush I was hiding behind, my body trembled. A rage that I never knew I had started to build up inside of me. My heart beat rapidly increased. My hands grew sweaty. Slowly, the man pulled back the bush.

A burst of energy, power, or what ever else you’d like to call it, released from my hands and instantly burned the man to a crisp. I stared at my hands in disbelief, then back at the pile of ashes formed. What was I?

This is the shortest one I’ve ever written. I love writing every day, even though my boyfriend tends to sigh and pout if he’s around while it’s happening. Sometimes it makes things difficult, like now. I’ll write something longer tomorrow.

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