Abominable Figure の小説・ストーリー

His face was half-covered in bone—like a mask welded to his skin—and behind him surged a new army. Not wolves. Not even monsters. Abominations. Grotesque mockeries of wolves, twisted by forbidden magic. Their bodies hunched, spines broken in unnatural ways, their fur patchy and matted with rot. Some walked on two legs. Others dragged their limbs like broken marionettes. Their eyes glowed with a sick green light. Their breath hissed with acidic vapor, melting the grass where they walked. And among them— I saw Lana. Or… what was left of her.

“The King. The guy who rules the world.” If David said anything else I didn’t hear it, all my attention was focused on the intimidating man moving towards us. I managed to tear my gaze from his eyes long enough to take in his large muscular frame, encased in a tight black t-shirt and dark jeans. The harsh lights of the room glinted off his coal-black hair and his eyes were the deepest blue I had ever seen. The King of the monsters was beautiful. “What’s he doing here? Why would the King come to a dump like this?” I finally managed to find my voice, although it sounded hoarse to my ears.

Ye abomsinal abdonimal abdominal asshole. ‘Abominable, you mean.’ I corrected her. We did not sign up for this, bro. Nick signed. I could not deny it. I indeed never signed up for this. ‘What ye frowning at? Ye think ye poferful–’ ‘Powerful.’ ‘Ye think ye super-superri-superior. Ye are a mudered.’ ‘Umm…well I think I am just breathing and functioning just fine to pass that.’ It took me a while to register that she was not looking at me for a corpse. She was accusing me of turning the corpse.

Angelina was so ashamed of who she was and what she had become that she stormed into her bedroom, shut the door, and then sat down on the edge of the bed. The unspeakable atrocities from her history continued to haunt her, and she was helpless to stop herself from succumbing to their influence over her. She yearned to rid herself of all of the revolting sensations that she was presently going through with all of her might. However, her past washed over her like downpour.

It is a terrible figure, its face is pale and ghostly, and appears to have been wrapped in a type of gauze or rotting skin. There's a time this creature often kept its long, pale hands crossed politely behind its back and sometimes hanging loosely at its sides. Abednego is supposed to search for it and feed it to the ogrism. It can also be found in sections of woods. Matendechere explained to Abednego that is s very dangerous figure and that it is often thought that it enjoys stalking people who become overly paranoid about his existence, purposefully giving them glimpses of himself in order to further frighten them. For this reason, it seems like awful to look at and very much enjoys psycho

I ask, needing a confirmation of what I already know. "You already know Sarrtina. There's Zacharie and Hasiah and they are just as dangerous as Sarrtina, if not more. Then there's Achilles." "She's the blonde?" "Yes." Zaralina says. "What makes her truly evil and vicious is the world of pain which has created so much darkness inside of her." For some reason I want to know more about this Achilles. When I saw her in my dream I felt like I knew her from somewhere, her eyes were oddly familiar. But it could be because all these nonhuman eyes look very similar.

She stood upright, trying to look composed, but her eyes kept flicking from shadow to shadow, and her foot wouldn’t stop bobbing — subtle tells, but I noticed everything. “You called?” I asked, grinning when she flinched at the sudden bang that echoed through the walls. Probably another one of my creatures testing the chains again. “Relax,” I murmured, still smiling. “Most likely another failed experiment trying to remember it still has limbs.” I thought of myself as an obvious god, but I wasn’t perfect. Some supernatural creatures rejected my blood — their bodies twisting, rebelling, until they became abominations. More beast than human.

Their movements are agile, despite running on all fours with short, crooked legs. But the worst are those who come out last. Abominable creatures, with skin as pale as the milk from a mother's breast, come staggering, staring with dead eyes in their oversized eye sockets. "Aurasu !" A woman howls in despair as she recognizes one of these pale creatures. "My daughter ! You're alive !” "No !" Saren shouts, pushing her in behind the protective torches. “She is no longer one of us. She's Hrazgoul now”.

But just as it appeared they had won, a figure arose from inside the orb, a tall, forcing figure cloaked in darkness. The figure's eyes shined with a malicious ruddy light as it ventured forward, the shadows around it writhing in reaction. “You cannot destroy the abyss,” it murmured, its voice resounding through the chamber. “You are nothing but insects before its power.” Ethan and Clara stood their ground, their eyes locked on the figure. “We’ll see about that,” Ethan said, his voice steady despite the fear that gripped his heart. The figure laughed, a cold, hollow sound that sent chills down their spines. “You are brave, but foolish. The abyss is eternal. It'll consume you, just as it has

She knew he would make Sabe, and she had brought him to this perfect, remote spot for a quiet, final conclusion. Then, a figure separated from the greater darkness near the center pillar. It moved quietly, a shadow formation into a man. Lean, his posture defined with hurt even in the gloom. The fine angles of his face were sculpted by starvation and fatigue, his eyes twin wells of reflected city light, burning with a creepy intensity. Sabatine. He picked him up a few feet away, within range that Anton could notice the grime ingrained in the folds of his jacket, the way he stood with his weight on his right side. He was something the river had vomited up, something raw and dangerous.