Novel & Cerita Book Home Fire

Prologue II: Pyre, 3113 Pyre Av 5, 3113 Stephan Caliphus, King Everything was on fire the night he finished the book in the back room of a borrowed house. He laid his glasses down on the desk in front of him and rubbed his tired eyes. The crackling of flames could be heard as the city burned all around them. The blood curdling screams of the men in the streets where they died was enough to make the blood of the fiercest warrior run cold, but he was a man of empathy and it hurt him more than it did the others.

On his way out of the mansion, he picked a bottle of liquor and went outside. He dropped the book on the ground and poured the liquor into it. He pulled his lighter and threw it on the book. He’s going to destroy this evidence that will accuse his mother of Treason. No, he can’t let that happen to her. Kean stared at the fire as it devoured the book, reducing it into ashes. The fire died down as the book became nothing but ashes. There’s no remnant of what used to be a dairy filled with thoughts of betrayal.

‘So much for gym class! Giving up, Jake stopped heaving and set the book on his lap. “You show up in my life and now you can't open! And I’m talking to a...” He had hardly finished that statement when a low whirring sound filled the toilet followed by what Jake could see was fire. The book opened itself up, its pages flipping madly and at the very centre of it, a fountain of orange flames shot up about three feet in the air. ‘What the fuck!’ Jake quickly grabbed the book by the sides when a rapping came on the door.

The warmth from the fire didn't really ease the uneasy feeling growing inside me. Taking a deep breath, I opened the book. Each page turn felt like stepping back into a past I wanted to forget. The flames continued to dance, casting a flickering light that seemed to play along with the emotions swirling within me. I turned another page, the words becoming guides through a landscape of recovery I wasn't sure I was ready to navigate. Memories, like shadows, crept in as the fire crackled. Each sentence seemed to awaken echoes of my own experiences. It was as if the library held its breath, waiting for me to absorb the weight of those stories and somehow find my own path within them.

Alice snapped Kingston roll his eyes and walked away from her sight “You really won’t say anything about It?” Alice asked Kingston didn’t say a word “Fine,,goodbye” Alice said and turned back She walked away Kingston fold his fists angrily,,his hands which was placed on the table started bringing out some flames of fire,,his eyes and hair turning red. The table was almost catching fire when the door opened again and Alice c@m£ in “I c@m£ to take my book,,,,” she st©pped when she saw Kingston and her eyes wi-de-ned

A father who could tell me bedtime stories, who could sing me lullabies and more importantly who could scare boys away from me while growing up. Unfortunately, I never got a chance to have a person who could be that for me. Maybe it was meant to be so. For me to suffer, to be haunted by the ghosts of my past, to be reminded of that fate night, when that gigantic man walked into our home, wearing a holster over his shoulder, a holster I believe concealed the gun he used to shoot both of them. It kills me everytime I think about it. It haunts me. Those gore image in my head...

I took my book and I lit my index finger with fire and tried burning the book. "They got us there". Zale said and sighed getting his own book and tried to toss it in the ocean. I stopped my fire and stopped him. "Well, as we are back to square one, let's just try to gather information from the northern part," I said and smiled at him. I put my book inside my bag again. It was pointless anyway, to burn the book. It is the book of origin, a book written by the Gods, it is protected from being harmed by anything, by anyone.

*Last chapter! Yay! So someone is going to die. I know, spoiler much? Jsyk, I am crying way more than you are, if you do ಥ╭╮ಥ Listening to Before you go by Lewis Capaldi * * It was not easy at first. Having to pull men through tents and snap their heads, because there was a high possibility they would heal again. Yet he had to be thankful for the twins. Who psychotically, and happily set them on fire or drove Icicles through their head.

Nothing remained. No blood. No broken pieces. No sign that only hours earlier, a little girl had flown through the air and fallen there. Only the streetlight still shone, its yellow glow falling across the empty crosswalk. Dad stared at that patch of road for a long time. "Let's go," Mom said softly. Dad came back to himself and started the car again. When they got home, everything was exactly as it had been. The two Barbie dolls, one new and one cracked, still sat on the coffee table. Beside them was the cake box that no one had put away, and the slice of strawberry cake left for me. The air still smelled faintly sweet.

It was physically impossible for me to get up and keep going. “Forgive me for touching you, Donna.” I recognized him as Niccolò. I let out a small gasp in surprise when he picked me up in his arms and ran. I held onto him tightly when I started to hear low explosions. I looked behind him, my eyes widening in horror when I saw the end of the building erupting in flames. It kept going, one explosion after the other, like a domino effect, and colored the night sky with orange flames.