The Skeleton King

The Skeleton King stepped over stars and hopped over a beautiful, blue and orange nebula to set me down among the hill folk. “These folk can be trusted,” the king said. “You’ll be safe here.” He turned and prepared to leap into the cosmos once more, but before he

I sat in the hand of the Skeleton King as he carried me away from the castle. He oscillated between jovial and dejected. I suppose mood swings are to be expected when one has been dead long enough to become a monarch. “What were you doing in there?” The king

Something’s following me. It’s playing a game of cat and mouse. The dangerous thing — it knows it’s the cat. Wake up. Wake UP! No luck. My strides extend. Before I realize, I’m running down a hallway through shafts of icy moonlight. I should never have come