“Trash, trash, trash,” Garret grumbled as he sifted through the remains of the abandoned campsite.
Marcus grunted in response, pausing once to grimace as he pulled a bloody rag free from his pile.
“Everything’s broken, man. Let’s go, this place is a dump,” he groaned. He waited for Garret’s response, but only a low laugh rustled through the trees.
“Broken?” the wind croaked. “And what are you, little scavenger?”
Marcus screamed as he was thrown to the ground, invisible hands bludgeoning him until his bones splintered and his eyes went empty; just another broken thing.
Then, the wind went quiet.
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alt="Stone Jaws by Evan Baughfman"
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>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="The Mannequin People by Michael J. Stiehl"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Gator by Randall Andrews"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Rude Awakening by Richard Lau"
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>