A Short Stay In Hell Audiobook Novels & Stories

A devilish chuckle echoes through the phone as an ice cold shiver runs down my spine. “Your going to hell!!” “Oh no sweet heart, I own it. Meet me at Stardelux. Bye.” He ends the call. I throw the phone against the wall, it shatters into thousands of pieces. Fear courses through my veins like an icy river. The world around me takes on a eerie quality, as if the very fabric of reality had become distorted. The once vibrant colors seemed to fade, muted by the shadow of impending doom. Thoughts race through my mind like wild stallions, galloping towards an uncertain horizon. Memories of laughter, love and dreams intertwined with regret, unfulfilled desires and shattered hopes. A bittersweet sym

"And you just let them in the house?" She shuddered. "I'm sorry sir." she said. "Go." he said and she slightly curtsied and walked away. He stood up and walked out of the study room. He walked down the length of stairs and saw Gory and Oliver seated on the sofa. "The ghost visitors who won't tell Helen who they are." he said chuckling as he walked to them. They stood up smiling. "I told you he's gonna be in today." Gory said as he shook Leo's hand and Oliver did the same.

The pit yawned open beneath her, bodies piled without ceremony, limbs tangled, faces obscured. Elizabeth’s stomach clenched. She saw herself thrown among them—fevered, delirious, mouth open in a scream that tore raw at her throat. She felt again the pressure, the crushing demand to keep breathing when the world no longer made room for it. From this perspective, it was dense and layered with endings. Each one distinct. Each one complete. No confusion. No chaos. Just the accumulated gravity of lives that had reached their final moment and stayed there. She felt the exact instant Malachor had closed around her: the one thing in the pit that did not turn away when movement ceased.

“Woah! But how could that be possible? I mean… it's hard to digest.” He pulled me back to his chest and sniffed my hair, “You will eventually come to believe it. There is a place called Hell out there. And we live there, waiting to punish the sinned souls. Each one of us out there has our own duties. I, for one, feed on the souls of the living.” My eyes grew wide and I stared down at the black veins that traveled down his neck to his chest. I traced them with my fingers and Asphalt did not revolt on them. He peppered kisses on my forehead.

He spat at Megan, "And you, all you're good for is spreading your legs and -" "Silence." Hans screamed, a high pitch wail that had everyone shrinking back, especially when bright blue sparks and spears of electricity ignited and flashed around him, causing him to convulse and spasm where he stood. His eyes rolled back and a horrible gurgling sound spluttered from his mouth.

Still, they also showed signs of exhaustion and malnourishment. “Where am I?” I whispered in a very low voice, I wasn’t sure if the girl I addressed my question to heard what I said or not. It was the same one who talked to me. She had jet black, long, straight hair that looked like it hasn’t been combed or washed in days. One side of her face was fully hidden by her hair. There was a thin, black headband on her forehead. It gave her a very creepy appearance. “Unofficially… you’re in hell. Officially, you’re in the King’s pack” she said sympathetically.

I quickly walked back to the couch to sit before I'd fall and make a fool of myself. "But last week, we all felt his presence. It was brief but it was something. And by last week, I mean months ago. Time differs greatly in hell. One hour there is twelve hours here. One day over there, is twelve and a half days here. So fifteen days in hell is six months." My head throbbed from the calculation. One breath down there, was hours of my endless crying and suffering, but one thing I gathered from their conversation… "So, he's alive?"

She sat silently for a long while, unmoving, until the clock struck midnight. With the chime of the hour, she stood, calmly picking up the now-cold dishes from the table. Without hesitation, she dumped everything into the trash. It was then that a chilling voice, belonging to the King of the Underworld, echoed from above, carrying a cold, otherworldly air. “Celia Quinn, your seven days are up. Do you regret making this deal with me?” The grim, icy words seemed to fill every corner of the villa. As they faded, Celia let out a faint, bitter laugh. Her soft voice broke the silence.

Knowing that it took someone very special to love… Hell’s Angel!

When he stood directly in front of me, I almost turned to butter. The man's smooth voice sent shivers down my spine and somehow, straight to my dick. What the hell was happening to me today? Slowly, I stood up, praying in my heart that my knees do not buck before this man. "Tyler Thompson." I gave myself a mental pat for not stuttering. He cocked his head to the side a little, amusement taking over his expression, "A lovely name". "Would you like to share anything you might know, Mr Thompson?" He crossed his arms over each other, his muscles bulging in the process.