Daily Short Stories from The Penned Sleuth

These Are Not My Voices “Do not go in there,” he told me. “I must, now shush,” I told the voice within. I entered the building with an old shotgun in hand and company I wish I didn’t have. Sure enough, there was nothing to see but darkness. I could not smell fire or rot. Whatever life I expected to find in this building wasn’t showing itself right away, but I had to clear it for the group. Twenty of us were holed up someplace we could not defend and this place looked like a better home anyway. https://www.thepennedsleuth.com/