http://slow.writerscafe.org/Shield The original writings of author Sam en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776015600 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 10Rain pitter-patters against the roof.Lightning illuminates the dark room. Thunder booms. A floorboard creaks. 9Mouse's ears flick. In bed, the woman stirs. Springs squeak. Quiet. 8Sleep pulls and tugs, luring her back in. Wind howls a warning.Trees knock at the window. She does not wake. 7Footstep.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Shield/1900096/ In an old abandoned building, a doll rests among the rubble.Her eyes are coated with a layer of grime and her white dress is in tatters. There is a name written on the tag that sticks from her neck, but it is too faded to read. A smile is painted across her porcelain face, pink and chipped. Her nose.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Shield/1789023/ I can hear it breathing at night, just when I’m on the verge of sleep.My eyes dart open, peering into the dark, yawning abyss that is my room at night. My heart is thundering inside my chest and I clutch Sir Teddy tight to my chest. I squeeze my eyes shut as tight as I can and hold my breath. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Shield/1789019/ A darkness unfolds underneath the seaRidding itself from its watery tomb. An evil force that is coming to be, From deep within the sea's cold, silent womb. Inside the earth, a new beast is waking.Unearthing itself from its deep, dark lair. 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I thought life would be different. I thought people would look at me, and see what I had gone through, what I had done. But they didn’t. They passed me by on the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Shield/1696163/ The water was cold and encompassing like a tomb. I went under the surface, the air forced from my lungs -- even underwater the irony of the situation wasn't lost on me. I kicked against a piece of rubble, and something hard slammed into my injured shoulder. The bullet still buried inside ach.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Shield/1684340/ Mornings in the Palace were just as hectic as the nights. Hundreds of Rook's underlings rolled in and out, tossing out information like they weren't the hundredth person to report that "the Guardians are increasing their patrols in the Lower Society." They looked at me with those "aren't you.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Shield/1678757/ Outside of the tunnels, the sun was almost completely down and it was raining hard. Jordan's half mask of charcoal began to run immediately, dripping onto his white prison uniform. On the streets, citizens of the Lower Society were hanging around on doorsteps, watching the rain from undernea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Shield/1676564/ It was a strange feeling, passing through a solid object. It was like being invaded, and the only thing that kept me from getting stuck here was a one hundred year old ghost in the form of an eight year old girl. On the other side of the pile of debris, Jordan sat amid a room of skeletons wi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Shield/1674321/ It appeared the tunnels found Jordan unworthy. After hours of wandering, with not a single whisper from the ghosts, I slumped to the floor of the tunnel, letting out a frustrated groan. Cain scuffed his shoe against the dirt, keeping an eye on Jordan as the Red Hood paced back and forth. 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To appease them, the men up on the dais dragged the woman's headless body .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Shield/1668638/ I had never suspected that one heroic action -- one that I was against, might I add -- could make such a difference in my life. But it did, and had I known, I would have just let the man die. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Shield/1668636/ Safe turns out to be Camp Middleton--three miles from our little cabin, according to Fisher. I walk down the center road hand in hand with Reece, Fisher on our left. His arms swing at his sides and he whistles quietly. A couple other people are poking their heads out of ransacked buildings, appearan.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Shield/1647152/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Shield/1646088/ I do as I am told and run. I run into the forest surrounding our little cabin, low hanging branches slapping at my face and slicing my skin. The howls of the monsters follow me, my every nightmare come to life. 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