Masato furiously blinked away his tears and once more pressed his face against the crack in the old wooden paneling, his heart pounding a mile a minute as he vied for another look at the monster consuming his village. He and the other villagers had all thought it a great boon when the barrels from the wrecked ship had washed ashore, each of them filled with some sort of strange, sweet-smelling alcohol from a far-off land. Masato’s parents dreamed of the riches that could come from selling
The Boy and the Oni
By: Smoge16
Favorited: 3 years ago
