Black Magic Riddles Novels & Stories

"Becca!" A voice, low, deep but soft, called. I closed my eyes even tighter not wanting to wake up from my dream where I was the queen of the dark, sitting on a black acrylic royal chair with a gold wood finish. Every morning I woke up, I would walk to the mausoleum connected to my palace by an underground tunnel, clanking my heeled boots along the cobblestone tiles as I checked on my prisoners. Each cell had someone who had crossed my line one way or another. It wasn't until I walked to the end where two cells were separated from the rest. The cells that were labeled hostes, latin meaning worst enemies and mortem below hostes, meaning death. Behind the old rusty bars of one of the cells was

Matthew was interested. “I’m sure you can sense it too. That guy has two auras circulating in his body. One of them is something I am familiar with. It’s what’s called black heart. It’s not an actual heart that pumps blood, rather it’s a spiritual heart. Such a thing can be conjured with complex black magic. But what he has is not something like that.” “Meaning?” “Black magic is already very complex compared to normal magic. To pull off a complex one requires decades of studying and a crap ton of mana. His black heart is artificial.”

Olivia POV I paced around my room restlessly, my mind occupied with countless thoughts and different possibilities. “Black magic…” I soliloquized under my breath. Black magic was associated with Baalzelbul, the Evil God. I had read about it in ancient texts—records from the Dark Era, an age of endless bloodshed and unimaginable destruction. The catastrophe of that era was still spoken about today. Even centuries later, its horrors continued to haunt history, enough to give little children nightmares whenever the old stories were told.

" the doctor said, fidgety. "No, doctor.." she shook her head but her face said it all. It became dull and pale. "Are you sure? Let me ask Mr Black.." he said and dialled a number on his phone while she knitted her brows in confusion. Mr Black? Who is he and why the hell is he asking him to insert a blood bag into her? Is he with Van Dough? Thinking of this made Amelia seriously worried.. her ocean blue eyes were bulged out in fear.. as if she was in a trance.

"All those time I was with the children, the witches didn't try to harm the children, not even the other kids in the playground. I think it only lurked around the walls like the fuck they were." "Ria saw black magic." They all frowned, wondering what I meant. Of course no one has ever seen black magic except me, an high official bloodsucker and the witches. No one has the ability to see the magic, infact my mother doesn't have that ability to see it. "What do you mean by Ria saw black magic. I thought she is Omega, she cannot see black magic." "But she did." I sighed. "It was also a huge surprise to me though. I never thought she would see something as dark as a the witches' black magic.

There were rings crafted from tarnished silver, glinting dully in the low light, alongside polished, oddly shaped stones that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it, and strange, unsettling ornaments depicting twisted figures and unholy symbols. A cold knot formed deep in her stomach, tightening with each step she took. She knew, with an unwelcome certainty, that these were all connected to black magic, not the gentle, healing practices she espoused, but something far more malevolent, a practice she fiercely avoided, one that went against every fiber of her being. Further back in the shop, past a narrow, winding aisle choked with hanging dreamcatchers and unsettling talismans, a v

Levi demanded. "Black magic," the guard said grimly. "It's a practice where the subject uses their own life energy to help cast magic. People who practice are cursed and will die painfully and slowly to the point they go mad. In order for the subject to sustain their life for long periods of time they have to sacrifice a living being—and the sacrifice whose life energy is drained dries up and becomes a mummy." So it was her in Red Fang territory when we were. Son of a bitch.

“Because power always demands a price.” Silence fell heavy. I could hear my own heartbeat now, it was loud and frantic. “How?” I asked finally. “How would you even do this?” El Fiago didn’t hesitate. “By using black magic.” The word hit me like a slap. My breath caught painfully in my throat, my lungs freezing. Black magic. I knew exactly what that was. A substance forbidden in most parts of the land. It is volatile, dangerous and unstable… Everything I’d been taught about signaled one thing.. danger.

He heard his father resorted with frustration in his voice. “Dear, you shouldn’t be here. Go back to your room.” His mother hurriedly whispered when she noticed him listening to their conversation. “Wait, did you just say men in black?” Hyde resorted when he came back to his senses. His companion didn’t speak but answered him with a mere nod. “Oh, and one more thing, she also said that one of them has some kind of black bird tattoo on the neck.” Hyde was stunned when he heard about the tattoo. He’s certain, that the deceased man was one of them—or just a scapegoat.

I wrapped my hands around her back and consoled her. “Manvi please don't cry..what’s the matter,” I asked in concern. She parted the hug and showed her hands “look at this, Mumma said it's the biggest blessing if the colour is dark but I only have burnt hands'' she said plainly. I held her hand and kissed her wound gently, she closed her eyes. “Manvi, It's just a ritual and not any Henna’s colour will be evidence to show how deeply I love you..” I exclaimed.