LOGINEngland, 1876. Twenty-year-old Maraina Blackwood has always struggled to adhere to the restrictive standards of Victorian society, denying the courage and desire that burn within her soul. But after a terrifying supernatural encounter, Maraina's instincts compel her to action. Maraina soon discovers a plot to unleash a new world—one of demonic aristocrats, bloody rituals, and nightmarish monsters. Putting her upbringing aside, Maraina vows to fight the dark forces assuming control of England. But as her world transforms, Maraina finds that she too must transform...and what she becomes will bring out all that she once buried. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing
View MoreInside a red dim lighted club. Men could be seen chanting with beer bottles on their hands but their voices couldn’t over shadow the sound of the music playing. Some became aggressive, some were fighting to get a perfect view. It was a club, specially for mobsters.
What were they chanting at, what was arousing their interests?. Her name is Amy. Amy's life had taken a drastic turn when she was just 20 years old. The loss of her parents in a car accident had left her shattered, adrift in a world that suddenly seemed devoid of safety and security. It was her uncle who stepped in, offering her a roof over her head and a sense of stability. But this sanctuary came with a price - Amy found herself bound to her uncle's whims, forced to work for him in return for the shelter and care he provided.As she navigated her early twenties, Amy's life became a delicate balance of grief, obligation, and survival. Her uncle's support felt like a double-edged sword, offering her protection but also chaining her to his will. Now, at 23, Amy's days were filled with the weight of responsibility and the quiet desperation to forge her own path. While Amy made her sick moves on stage, loud voices could be heard screaming her name. She has always loved dancing since she was a child.When she was younger, she used to dance for her parents and they would cheer her on. At 19 she was enrolled by her parents into a dancing academy. Her parents loved and supported her dreams in the little ways they could. But when she lost her parents she had to drop out of the academy and moved under the authority of her uncle while hanging on to her dreams with the hope of being free one day.Right now she felt like she was in her own world. Each move she made earned loud chants and cheers from the audience which are mostly men, not just men but mobsters. It was an under ground club for mobsters and Amy’s uncle was no exemption, he is a well known and respected mobsters.While the music was about to end, she made her last move. She bent over and did a booty clap.The men got crazy, satisfied with the cheers she took a bow and left the stage. She went into another room by the Conner, entered and locked the door behind. She stood in front of the mirror, and admired her body, her shape still surfaced even under her clothes. She always dressed to cover up cause she believes her body is for her eyes alone. She was that obsessed with it. When ever she goes out, she always put on long gowns or joggers and baggy tops even tho they didn’t really hide her shape, and when she's alone she prefers putting on underwear and letting her body feel free. Amy took off her clothes and remained in front of the mirror admiring her curves and her clear skin. She had the body of a goddess according to her. She wasn't greatly endowed but her hour glass shape and firm standing breasts were perfect. She started striking poses in front of the mirror like she was having a photo shoot. After a while she went in to the bathroom to clean up. She sank into the bathtub, letting the water cover her head. Her eyes were open as she admired her body under the water. She kept staring at her self till she couldn’t hold her breath any longer and then she raised her head up. She gently washed her body like it was gold and the smell of lavender filled the air. She always used body wash and perfumes that had same scent. She loved the smell of lavender a lot except her hair wash which smelled like coconut. Amy has a long curly rich brown hair which she also cherished a lot. She applied her hair wash and gently washed her hair, taking her time to massage her scalp till she was satisfied. When she was done, she left the bathroom to the room, she changed into another set of joggers and a shirt, she tied an apron around her waist and left the room. Aside dancing, she serves at the bar too. The club is owned by her uncle and these were the roles she had to play in exchange for taking care of her. Stepping into the hall again, some men could be seen fighting, it was no new thing. Fights randomly happen but they die down gradually too. She went into the bar counter and a young lady smiled at her and she returned it. Her name is Rita. Amy worked with her at the bar counter. While it was a club for mobsters, every worker at the club either knew how to fight or was a mobster too except Amy. “Girl your moves are insane everyday. You’re gonna have to teach me how to booty clap, I’ll charge extra to have to do that on a D yunno.” Rita said sassily while attending to one of the mobsters. Rita is a known whore in the club but Amy liked her cause of her kind heart. She has always been nice to Amy. “I’ll charge you 50$ to teach you that, baby” Amy winked at her and they both laughed. The customer Rita was attending to suddenly grabbed her breast, squeezing it so hard making her to moan softly and Amy shook her head. When he was done he threw a bundle to her and walked away.PART VAscensionFebruary—April, 1878CHAPTER THIRTY-THREEPenance“I recognize, in retrospect, why some would take offense to the Immortalist Papers. The fact of the matter is, they reflected the commonly-held beliefs of the age in which they were written. I do not feel it is fair to blame me for spreading ideas that were already commonly-held. You must understand that we are in a period of rapid change, and one can hardly be expected to know what lies around every corner. For God’s sake, I was only doing what I was told! You want me to put my family at risk? My wife, my children? If I’d refused to write those papers, you know what would have happened to them—and to me, for that mat
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWOCrimson RainSalem’s mention ofLoretta made it clear to me that she was alive and uninfected, just as I needed her. As I arrived at her home, I found a group of Uncivil trying to hammer down the front door. I slashed through them before they even saw me.Rather than pound on the door as the Uncivil had done, I simply rang the doorbell. Loretta’s face poked through the drapes, and the door opened.“You’re alive!” she exclaimed, yanking me inside. After slamming the door shut again, she turned to a servant and said, “Fetch her a dress, won’t you? Something black.”Mr. Pervis stood inside a blood circle, his arms outstretched, fingers bloody. His expression remained neutral as he concentrated and chanted beneath his breath. He was too focused on the ritual to notice my nakedness.“He’s warding the house,” said Loretta. “Making it so no one can force entry. He’s been at it for hours. First the Reapers were coming, then the Uncivil.”Loretta’s posture had str
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONESweet SorrowThe Reapers walkedme out through the front doors of the Necropolis, and to the edge of Westminster Bridge. There were crowds of Reapers at either end of it, their dark cloaks billowing in the wind. Some rode on bone stallions.The cold rain felt like needles against my battered body. Below us, the bloody Thames swirled and screeched, hammering its barriers. The storm had made it higher. Further down the river, a large shape was growing closer—Salem’s island of flesh. We could hear its weeping even from here.At the other end of the bridge, the crowd of Reapers shuffled, and two faces emerged from the sea of skulls: Alkin and Sven. A stone dropped inside of me. The Reapers must have taken them both at the docks when Alkin had arrived. Mr. Cillian was going to deliver all three of us to Salem, forcing me to watch as the people I loved were tortured.Mr. Cillian’s eyes lit up at the sight of Sven. He walked past me to the center of the bridge, th
CHAPTER THIRTYIn the House of Mr. Cillian“This will beeverso much fun,” Mr. Cillian trilled.He had taken me to a room with walls of fine wood paneling. This was no ordinary bone cell; it appeared to be a meeting room.Mr. Cillian sat across from me in a fancy chair, sipping blood from a teacup. Not a drop stained his lips, but he dabbed them with his handkerchief anyway. “Salem wants to torture you himself, of course, but I’ll still get some satisfaction from delivering you to your doom.”He hadn’t chained me to my chair; he acted as though this was an informal meeting between close friends.I tried not to show my anger; I didn’t wish to indulge him. I had to approach this from a place of strength and certainty, no matter the crippling pain still coursing through my body.“He’s coming to infect us all, Warren,” I said. “Everyone. Even you.”“He told me he’d spare me if I got you ready for him,” Mr. Cillian replied. “He’ll even let me kill the Dark Watcher. And oh, how












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