Benjamin Black Author 소설 & 이야기

*** We appeared at the gate of the mansion the same way we left. Sir Benjamin excused himself. He said he would have some business to do, one of the duties of a grim reaper. No one dared to question him or stop him. We just watched the frightening man's back as he disappeared to his mansion. In the yard, the three of us who were silent all the time finally let out a sigh of relief with a mixture of astonishment. "...What the f*ck happened?" Jia cursed out loud. "That scary demon who could kill us in one blow was sucked by a black hole?"

Benjamin simply grabbed the papers, his eyes cutting across the room to lock onto mine. "Get up, Jane," Benjamin whispered. "The soft life is officially dead. It's time to run."

Benjamin warned apprehensively. "Shut up! I know!" I snapped trying to calm my raging heartbeat. "Why is he not quieting down?" he whispered hastily his big, round, fearful eyes staring at the door. "I don't know! I told you it doesn't just work, okay? You have to figure out what he wants." Benjamin just groaned and picked up his crossbow as if he expected the convicts to come bursting through any moment. Not that I blamed him, a part of me wondered why they hadn't already.

"Benjamin, why are you following me?" Benjamin looked up at her angry expression and said, "I'm sorry about what happened that day. Celia has left Pamore University, and she'll never touch design again in this life." He blurted the words out in a rush. Surprise flashed in Grace's eyes, but she raised her eyebrows. "That is your personal matter, Mr. Hawkins. You don't need to report it to me." The next second, Benjamin opened the car door and stood in front of her. His six-foot-tall figure made Grace seem even more petite than usual, and anyone who saw her would have the urge to protect her.

He walked back to the Don's building and met the Don having fun with his call bitch in the clan, Kristen. Kristen was the bitch whom the Don calls when he's frustrated or angry or just needs to get a load off. She was a mobster in the clan and was quite skilled. Being the Don's call bitch, she carried herself with an air and would always bully the weaker mobsters or the maids. As soon as Daniel walked in, the boss ordered Kristen out. She grumbled in displeasure, but a look from the Don had her comported. She glared hatefully at Daniel before storming off with her dress in hand.

I turned back to it and wrote slowly: ‘What are you? The book responded almost instantly: ‘I am a Living Book. I can answer any question. I know all that was, and all that is.’ I pondered on those words, all the was, the future, all that is, the present, then what about the future? I decided to try asking it. ‘What about the future?’ I wrote. There was a pause. ‘I do not know the future. The future is shaped by choice.’ it wrote. I let out a soft giggle, stunned. “This… this book is amazing. It actually talks back, it answers anything.”

And I sat there, hands on my face, whispering to myself. “Fuck.” I sat there on the bed long after Danika left. My palms were damp. My chest still tight. But the longer I sat in the quiet, the less anxious I felt. And the more I thought about him. Professor Chance Black. The name alone made my thighs squeeze. He looked even hotter this morning. More put together. Dangerous in a clean, brutal kind of way. That black button-up, the rolled sleeves, that angry, cold expression when he’d yanked Kole off me. His voice still echoed in my head.

High above, a modified, matte-black Hawk screamed across the sky, charting a direct course for the Bermuda triangle. Inside the cockpit, Ava sat in the primary seat, her black tactical gear hugging her curves like a second skin. She had left the collar of her suit partially unzipped, exposing the faint, violet-dark bite mark Landon had left beneath her collarbone—a reminder of the beast she was about to face. Beside her, the monitors flickered with a grainy, live feed of the Black Snake’s interior. Summer was now locked in a sub-deck holding cell, her head lolling against her chest, the bandages on her wrists soaked through with fresh crimson.

I jumped out of bed to see what was wrong and there it was, before me. There was blood on our bed, real blood and I was bleeding from my nose as well. I reached out to the blood on the bed with my finger and touched it. " This is not from me," she said, referring to the breaking of her hymen. This blood was different, it was much and even thicker. " Your nose," she pointed at my nose. " It's not your business" I fired back at her. She has no right to ask me about that. I touched the blood again, this time, I reacted to it, it felt like a shock, then my heart began to hurt really bad.

"Of course not, it would never be your fault they took your sister, but... do you remember anything beyond what they told you?" She looked confused, then looked down. "I remember a mark... a... black mark on the fist of one of them." I looked at Asmodeus. That wasn’t information that was in the novel, it was something new. Something from that place - something that Elaine didn’t know. "What brand? What was it like? Can you draw?" It was too many questions, but I couldn’t help it. They were necessary if we really wanted to catch those bastards. 'They were tall, black hair, red eyes and crimson robes,' reminded me clearly of the description given by the victim when Elaine helped her.