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Summary
Raph pushed through the door. Frozen winter air tore across his skin like sandpaper, somehow refreshing in its unapologetic burn. Each step across the ice-slicked porch felt like padding across a small, uneven bed of needles and glass. The warmth of New York’s sewers shielded them from the worst of the cold, but he almost welcomed its bite. Something about the farmhouse walls, the fire burning inside… it felt too safe. Like it existed to lure him into another false sense of security. The snow stung. There was a danger in its stillness, its silence. An emptiness that beckoned you to wander in.
Series
- Part 1 of Whumpuary 2024
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