Today’s OneWord: Pins

The dank smell of the basement crawled into Cheryl’s nostrils as she descended the steps. She wrinkled her dainty nose and stepped cautiously into the dark at the bottom of the stairs. She stepped forward, reaching for the light switch on the wall and felt her foot touch something soft. She jerked her foot back, afraid it was a mouse or rat. She found the switch and flipped it on and quickly looked to the floor.

A scream built in her throat as she took in the view of Miguel. He was obviously dead on the floor with sewing pins sticking out of his pupils and dried blood that had dripped down the sides of his face like tears.


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