Blech Soul Mga Nobela at Kwento

On the contrary, Alex, who was hated by others initially, suddenly appeared mysterious. Cheryl took two steps back. Unconsciously, she leaned against Alex’s body. “Alex, do you know what it is? Isn’t this Guilherme Extraordinaire’s soul?” Cheryl asked softly. Alex laughed dryly. “Of course, it’s not Guilherme Extraordinaire’s soul. I can’t say for sure if Immortal Doctor Guilherme Extraordinaire’s soul from the twelfth century is still in this world, but this thing before us is merely a mountain spirit raised with blood!”

I heard a crack, like somebody misstepped and broke a twig on the ground. In fear I leapt out of the pool and heard a snarl come from behind me. Now I could smell something. It smelled like blood, sweat, mud, and grease. I was suddenly on the ground and there was a full grown adult wolf on top of me, her claws digging into my flesh. I cried out, terrified and in pain.

Sometimes, the body remembers what the soul tries to forget. It wasn't the pain that broke me, but the way my body stopped belonging to me. Every unwanted touch was another crack. A piece of me vanishing without a sound. I arrived to Chicago months ago, and I still struggle to breathe. This city doesn’t embrace me—it watches me. Everything is clean, cold, precise. Neon lights flicker like fake stars, and the rain hits the windows with military discipline. It’s a world built to function, not to feel.

Blood trickled down the corners of his lips when he opened his mouth. There was a scar on his lower back, mirroring the one I had from my surgery.

cut crystal decanter and drank deeply. As if he needed it. I inched toward the door, my heart beating so fast I thought I’d vomit. The cool metal of the door’s hinges bit into my fingers. If I moved fast, I could be out of the house and sprinting for the gate within seconds. He was undoubtedly faster—but chucking some of those pretty pieces of hallway furniture in his path might slow him down. Though his Wiz hat—with their delicate, pointed arches— would pick up any signal of movement from me. “Who are you?” I managed to say. His light golden hair was so similar to the color of his beast form’s pelt. Those giant claws undoubtedly still lurked just below the surface of his skin. “Sit,” he sa

Diego said "I am what you'd call a Pnevma. A host to one of the Ten Black Spirits." "Wait wait....black Spirits. " Altar said " I've only heared stories about Black Spirits. Spirits made of raw Dark Energy....i only thought those were myths" "Im as real as they come" Diego said," Theres one living inside of me. Last night you saw only a glimpse of what they can do. The thought of it is terrifying. Dorian wants my power. He wants to extract it from me and into himself so he can rule Beaunotique."

She seemed more like an official than the actual ones. The ones doing their soul communion just stared. After working in the Netherrealm for so long, everyone got pretty lifeless and dull. They couldn't remember the last time—probably centuries—since they'd seen a departed soul with this much rebellious energy. The Phantom Patrol asked Blanc, "Blanc, what's the deal with this soul?" Before Blanc could answer, the Phantom Guards in dark robes started yelling. "You're not a departed soul! You're a living soul—what are you doing stirring up trouble in the Netherrealm?"

Laughter- low and crawling, like something dragged from a grave- echoed. “You’re standing inside my soul, boy. This is my world. My domain.” The figures convulsed. Limbs cracked as they turned their attention to us, their soulless gazes flicking toward me. Lucian raised his blade. “Then I’ll cut through your damn soul.” The first creature lunged.

“The dream is the small hidden door in the deepest and most intimate sanctum of the soul, which opens to that primeval cosmic night that was soul long before there was no conscious EGO and will be soul far beyond what a conscious EGO could ever reach.” Everyone looked at him dumbfoundedly. Flabbergasted should be the correct expression. No one could break the silence between them until Blue came with his sass. “Are you saying… all the long quotations, ranting, and whatnot are because you want to change your area with the nearest members. Is not it, right, Orange?” Blue snorted in disbelief. “Unbelievable.” Brown clasped his palms on his lips. “I can’t believe you.” Pink pulled Blue who was l

“Kael touched you once, and you carry the imprint of it like a brand. That's not a normal bond response.” “I didn’t choose it,” I repeated. “But it’s real. They all felt it.” His jaw clenched. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” He finally opened the box. Inside was a small obsidian dagger. Ornate, ancient, and glowing faintly along the blade. I took a step back. “This is a Soul-Cleaver,” he said calmly. “Forged during the old wars. Cuts the soul-bond thread between mates. Kills the connection without killing the person.”