Prompt: Pick a name, a place, thing and an emotion and write a short horror story about it. Name: Megan. Place: Tennessee. Thing: Axe. Emotion: Grief Dedicated to Gbolahan (G-easy/Gbolisky)♥ ***** It was the smell that woke her this time. That tangy, fishy smell. It was in the air and whether she liked it or not it was there to stay. It clung to everything- her clothes, it clung to the boxes and gas barrels that seemed to have been abandoned for who knows how long. The mouldy rocky floor was filled with the clothes and belongings of the deceased. Megan was locked up in some kind of underground warehouse. It was dark and humid. She could barely even see her hands in front of her. It had rained the night before. Drops of rain were slowly seeping in through the cracks of the floor above her. She was cold, hungry. Counting the days here, made no difference. All the days have long since merged into one. The smell was getting worse. Usually, the bodies didn't spend
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