The vampire’s about to bite her when she realizes this is all wrong.
You have reached The End of Things. Whatever comes next is concealed in darkness.
Jonathan ignored the signs warning of thin ice; he loved skating on frozen ponds.
(A horror story in 50 words.)
The legends are wrong. Its name is Spattered Claws.
“It’s time,” she said. “They’re coming.” She collapsed.
I couldn’t wrap up my time with the 52-Week Writing Challenge without saying a few things.