Blazing Bins Novels & Stories

She poured more mana into it to further increase its power. “Let’s hope this works! [Blazing Comet]!” She shouted the spell and a condensed ball of orange fire was shot out of her hand. The ball of fire exploded on the sand near the tamsarah. The sand had melted into a red liquid. As the beast passed through it, it roared in pain and emerged fully out of the sand and started rolling around on the sand. The red viscous liquid was sticking onto its body, sizzling its skin. “ROARRR!!”

“Lead the way, loser!” “Thought you weren’t a movie person.” “Don’t try to run away from your duties.” They found a nearby cinema and luckily, they had just started showing a movie few minutes ago. They rushed into the room and took seats farthest from the screen and placed the single large bucket of popcorn Sebastian had gotten in between them. By their sides, were their individual bottles of coke, paid for by Alex as his little way of relieving Seb’s pain of footing majority of the bills.

" I try to concentrate and see a Blaze figure in my head. I try to find out what Blaze sees right now...where his whereabouts...and what is how condition. I closed my eyes and concentrate harder...what I See .. is the same as what Blaze see .... And Blaze is seeing.. 'What the F.....!'

He regretted it the moment those words left his lips. Tears built in Bonnie's eyes. "I'm sor-" "Lorenzo! Come quick, the news." Grace hurriedly said as she dragged Lorenzo to the living room. "21 year old Bonnie Evans went missing Thursday July 13th after being last seen at The Velvet Room, a nightclub in California. Evans was seen with her best friend Becca Jones and is the last person she spoke to before she supposedly went missing. Evans is also described to be blind. She was diagnosed with Retinitis Pigmentosa when she was only 14, an eye disease in which the back wall of the eye is damaged. Police investigators only found her cellphone and her guide dog in an alley of Mellway Street. Ev

The powerful shockwave was enough to make Harvey squint his eyes. Thunderblasts! Thunderblasts were tied to the bolts. These were not just ordinary weapons, but specialized weapons designed to kill True Warriors. All he could say was that they were out to kill him. In this moment, Harvey did not hold back and casually picked up some rocks from the ground and threw them toward the truck. Thud! Thud! Thud! The three men-in-black who pulled the triggers of their crossbows shuddered and fell from the roof of the truck.

He slows down the car making her sigh in relief. But, it is too late now and suddenly they see a big container coming towards them. Sook-Ja yelps loudly as she feels the car being hit and she closes her eyes tightly waiting for impact.

Sharp and certain. “You’re wasting your time, Malcolm.” The memory didn’t come whole, just fragments. Pieces that slipped in whether I wanted them to or not. Cold air against my skin, the distant echo of bodies colliding and the dull thud of impact echoing through the field. My duffel bag half-packed on the bench beside me and her, standing there like she had every right to decide what stayed and what didn’t. “You’re good at one thing. Why are you trying so hard to ruin that?” My jaw tightened slightly at the memory.

she exclaimed. Wrinkling his brow, Breen looked confused. “The—?” “Yes! Come on! That would be just the right place to do it!” His eyes widened. “D-do—it?” “Yeah. I mean what better place? It would be empty at noon, while all the hands are out. Private and there’s all those beds.” He blinked his eyes while looking lost.

Turning his head to the person behind him, he says, "This is it, go in." I strain to stand on my tiptoes and see who he's ordering, and it turns out to be a group of deliverymen! They're struggling to carry several huge boxes into my house, and they're even directing a crane downstairs to bring something in through the window. I break free from Blaze's grasp and ask, "What is this?" "Your furniture," Blaze deadpans, crossing his arms as he watches them intently. "I don't need..." "No, you do!" he says through gritted teeth.

It was a scar on the face of the dead world, but a scar that was healing, turning into something new. The main gate of Birkin Shelter was a formidable structure, a reinforced wall of shipping containers and scrap metal, topped with barbed wire and punctuated by two guarded watchtowers. As the blue sedan approached, a figure waved from the left tower, and the heavy, makeshift gate, mounted on shrieking metal rollers, began to grind open just wide enough for the vehicle to pass through.