Build My Gallows High Novel Novels & Stories

The two journals now — Don's and mine — are doubled inside the account. He wrote: The tenth year is the year of the last chapter. The roses are at the first east wing windows. The foxgloves are at the quince trees. Thomas's grandmother's recipe has been made twice now — the second harvest larger than the first. Mexico City has given the book its necessary darkness. The building is in the fruition phase and is still building.

Various theories have the library being built there by aliens, by a civilization ten thousand years old, or by a race of vampires. Caitlin let the book fall from her lap, her mouth open in shock, and it landed with a thump on the floor. She sat straight up, feeling a jolt. She suddenly felt wide awake, as if she had just lost all sense of time and place. She picked the book up again, her throat dry, and read the words again and again, desperately, like a castaway starving for water.

Chantal chose to believe that Gage had survived and would find her. She hoped before it was too late—before Harris played his cruel games. Her mind flashed back to his hands around her neck, and Chantal rubbed her collarbone as they slowed to a stop. The derelict building before her looked grim. A rusted, tin roof covered the single-story structure. Set into one wall sat three huge ventilation fans; their rusty propellers turning slowly.

The sudden shrill from the Blacksmith’s chiseling fleets into my ears then do I realize what time it is. Lord Owen made the right choice to dump me in a dungeon beneath the Smithy because it somehow turned out to be a blessing through the years. Reason is; I may have gotten too used to the darkness that I know no difference between the day and the night, so the old Smith’s arrival marks a dawn, while the waning of his sounds announce twilight. Slow echo of footsteps tells me that someone is approaching my cell. I allow my trembling hands to stray from my ears, panging headache suddenly streaking in at the realization of looming trouble.

He went on, "I am grateful to you. I am so grateful that you killed Keisha. You came up with a great masterpiece that is in my favor. If you haven't killed her, then I wouldn't have being so obsessed to bring you here and a masterplan wouldn't have come to play." He placed his hand on the wall and learned closer, with his face an inch away. "Thank you for everything." Rielle felt the world coming to an end for her. She had promised everyone at the court room and even placed her self as a bet that it would surely be a success. She was so confident, that if confident was a person, then it would be her. At that moment, she wanted to scream out to the men waiting outside or to King median or Eli

I sighed wistfully, placing my hand over my heart. “Right,” She agreed, flipping the page in her upside-down book without looking at it. “It just broke my heart when the guards showed up at the end to arrest him, and it was discovered that she had been dead the whole time. Her neck had snapped at the gallows.” I said, waiting for Nova to respond, but she just hummed as she continued to scan the area through the window. “Doesn’t that just rip your heart out and make you want to find a man like that? Dedicated to you, even in your hardest times?” I asked deadpanned this time.

I lost feeling in my legs and knelt on the marble floor. “Disrespectful little slut. You’re going to the beta gallows.” *** “What? What did they feed these guys?!” I groaned. Leiah dragged me all the way to a shithole called the beta gallows. A place with fur, rotten food and it smelt like feet and farts. This was the place the betas came to train and do other dumb stuff. Leiah ordered me to make the place sparkle like that was possible. The betas mocking me wasn't helping either.

She moved with the assured gait of someone of high standing, supremely confident, utterly untouchable, as if she had just performed a noble deed rather than an act of pure evil. With Ivor in tow, I followed her to a separate, imposing building that stood grim and silent under the morning sun. Within it, a high, vaulted ceiling rose above us, casting long, somber shadows over a sunken tomb. The coals within burned fiercely, their heat radiating even at a distance, making the air around us shimmer. The thick, acrid smoke, heavy with the stench of burnt flesh, was skillfully channeled upwards through a tall, narrow chimney, disappearing into the vast, uncaring sky. The efficiency of the death-d

They marched me up out of the cells and through the corridors of the castle, and then outside. The air hit me first. Hotter than ever, dry and gritty with ash. The sky was the same deep red it always was, bruised at the edges. The crowd was already gathered in the open ground in front of the castle walls, all of them jeering at me, shouting. Someone threw something that smelled rotten at me. It hit me in the spine, but I kept walking and kept my eyes forward. The gallows were straight ahead. A tall platform hanging over a dry pit filled with bones. A single noose dangling from the beam.

EVANGELINE The address in Gael’s car GPS was a building that loomed against the dark sky like something out of a science fiction movie, all glass and steel reaching impossibly high into the clouds. I craned my neck back, trying to count the floors, but lost track somewhere around thirty. The structure seemed to stretch endlessly upward, disappearing into the darkness above. How many apartments could one person possibly need? The excess was staggering, even for someone of Gael's wealth. The moment I stepped out of the car, a man in suit materialized from the shadows and blocked my path.