Blacklight Bingo Novels & Stories

in unison, syncing in tone, they both nodded, taking the deal and two. The crowd cheers in excitement, having the attention, with a bet taking side and two. They move to a side where light is well lit, taking each end accordingly. Placing the cups on each side in a triangular shape filled with liquor. They are both given a set of ping pong balls. Setting the game to begin. “Sky.” Worried and scared, Andrea called Sky and pleading with him to stop the game. “Not this game Sky, we never knew what will happen after this.”

Dad grabbed the nurse, throwing her out of the room alongside himself. "Well-done, Emily, you have accomplished your mission." A sinister scent emerged, a wicked laugh echoing across the room. The once blue sky was now a mixture of black and white with the moon reflecting its radiant image. Wails filled the air as a ray of light fell from the sky, hitting a mountain on the other side of town. I groaned, wincing as my hand was scorched by the flaming book. The pages settled, words in red appearing on the pages. "Strigoi, Nosferatu, Jiangshi…"

ASHTON Against my misguided judgment, my ‘run into things without thinking it through’ attitude, we go back to the complex giving me more time to prepare. Black Lagoon is the shadiest underground club in Moss Creek. Admission is tough to get and those who enter don’t always come out the same…or come out at all.

"Initiate the Blackout Protocol. If they want to audit me, let’s see how they do it in the dark." Suddenly, every light in the county—the porch light, the SUV's sensors, even the distant town's glow—died. The only thing left was the bioluminescent blue pulsing from the "Chronicle" on the Traveler’s arm in the distance, and the terrifying, silent scream of a mother ready to kill for her child.

Outside, lightning split the sky. And somewhere in the city, Marcus Blackwell smiled in the dark, watching the rain streak down the glass of his penthouse window. “Let the game begin,” he whispered.

I find a table in the very back corner, tucked behind a big stone pillar. It’s perfect. It’s dark. It’s invisible. I sit down and open my book—a worn copy of Theoretical Astrophysics. I hide the cover behind a paper bag. If people knew the creepy janitor was reading about black holes, they’d only find a new way to mock me. I take a bite of my apple, my eyes scanning the room. Across the hall, the Knights' table is a scream of noise and gold. They sit in the middle, lit up by the tall gothic windows. Alan Voss is at the head of the table, looking like a king carved out of ice and ink.

I once believed meeting Charles was the final ray of comfort in my life. A sightless man and a terminally ill woman, leaning on each other to find warmth in the dark. I gave up chemotherapy, pushing through cancer pain to work, all just to leave behind every cent I had for my "blind" boyfriend and our unborn baby. I even signed an organ donor form, hoping that after my death, my eyes could finally bring him light. That belief shattered when I saw a photo in the hospital director's office. There he was, surfing under the bright sun. His eyes shone, with an arm wrapped around an heiress dripping in multi-million-dollar jewels. It turns out our whole love story was nothing more than a rich

“Exactly. They released their legend in order to make money. But this wealth gathering scheme is not one centered around the name ‘Lightning King’. Sure the name of the legend is enough to draw in many to the underground arena; but the underground arena has limited seating. Sure, it is a large fighting arena capable of seating ten thousand. But that’s the thing. Every big fight is enough to fill the arena. They don’t need the Lightning King for that. So why call him out?” “Hmm,” the white man thought silently for a few seconds. His black friend was quiet during this period. He didn’t say anything or make any noise for fear of interrupting his friend’s thought process and soon, his patience w

His hands rested on his knees, gripping them tightly, as he struggled to steady his breaths. A black card lay before him on the ground, its surface adorned with bold, gold letters spelling out the unmistakable ‘S.’ The infamous Blacklist card—a harbinger of impending doom, signifying that the person who received it was about to endure the worst week, if not year, of their life. A tradition created by the alphas of the Shadowblood Territory. If anyone dared to offend alphas of Shadowblood territory, that person’s name appeared on the blacklist that was displayed on a big, glowing sign.

I will be the Queen of Dragons, not some pathetic bitch! The day goes by quickly and I know just the place to go for dinner. Blackout is a completely dark restaurant that has private rooms and most importantly it is next door to a BDSM club. We can give our guys a taste and get them so hot and bothered that they drag us by our hair to the club and fuck us like the beasts that they are. End Jessica’s POV