Circle Of Hell Novels & Stories

"I don't like the implications of that title, William. 'Mother' suggests more than mere leadership. It suggests origin. Possibly even suggests she considers herself the source of whatever practice the Circle has built its entire purpose around." I thought of the serpent eating its own tail, the banner we'd watched surround the fortress weeks ago, a symbol of something cyclical, something that fed on itself to continue existing. Ouroboros. The Circle's very name suggested exactly the kind of endless, self-sustaining hunger Ysolde was describing.

But then Thorne looked around at Sarah's team, looked directly at the camera, directly at me, and smiled. "This isn't over, Debbie," he said, his voice calm and cold. "You can kill me, you can kill all of us, but the Circle will never die. We're everywhere, in every city, in every government, in every boardroom. You can't cut off the head because there is no head, just a thousand snakes, and we'll keep coming until you're in the ground." He raised his gun, not at Anabel, but at his own head. "No!" I screamed, but it was too late.

Sandy smiled and said, "Of course. We're launching a new program that gives every criminal a chance to atone for their crimes. With a bailiff present, they will meet with the victims or their families, then confess what they have done." The broadcast cut to the repentance scene. I stood beside Sandy and watched Ruby and Danny brought in together, standing side by side. Then, I smiled in satisfaction. "I'll kill you! You murderers!" A bottle of sulfuric acid flew at them. Danny's eyes went wide with terror. Without thinking, he pulled Ruby in front of him. "Ah! Help me! It hurts, it hurts!"

Keeping her from slipping into the quiet he had shown her before. “You don’t have to,” he said. Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs. “You said there was a cost.” “Yes.” She swallowed thickly. “Say it again.” A pause. Then, closer still, his voice lowered—not in secrecy, but in intimacy. “You will not belong to heaven,” Malachor said. “You will not be reclaimed by a god who mistook your endurance for obedience. You will stand where I stand—between endings. You will see what others refuse to look at. You will carry what is cast away.”

A past that visits him from the depths of Hell, haunted by its spectra with nightmares that refuse to leave him even after all those centuries have passed. He raised his head and watched the disc of the sun, which was preparing to set behind the horizon, bid farewell to the island, leaving coldness and darkness, announcing the end of the children's play period and the start of the parents" role in guarding the area from the attack of what remained of the savage Sirana.

Lila’s chest ached as she tried to catch her breath. “Tell me what’s going on,” she demanded, gripping his arm. “You knew. You’ve always known.” Cade’s jaw tightened. “You wouldn’t have believed me.” “Try me!” He hesitated, eyes searching hers. “Harper isn’t working alone. She’s part of something called The Circle. It’s been running Ravenwood for years—students, professors, even alumni. They choose who wins, who fails, who breaks.” Lila’s eyes widened. “And I’m their next target?”

They were glowing with the same energy I’d siphoned from Elena was reacting to the atmosphere, a golden-red aura flickering around my fingers like a dying candle in a wind. Stay focused, Darius, I told myself, the weight of the rucksack against my spine a grounding reminder of the physical world. The First Circle is the Circle of Displacement. It feeds on the sense of being lost. A voice echoed in the back of my head, it was probably the knowledge of Luca. Elena’s stolen memories clicked into place, a mental map unfolding behind my eyelids. This place was designed to be confusing, almost like a labyrinth ripped out of the shining. I started forward, the glass shards beneath my boots crunchin

I flipped back to the last page, where I saw a little paragraph titled “The Crimson Circle.” “The Crimson Circle are a group of Dark Witches who are involved in sorcery. They involve themselves in all manner of dark magic, and use a tight system and formation to keep themselves hidden.” I stopped. Could the Crimson Circle be the one in charge of what’s going on all along?

They were preparing to lay Viviana to rest in the Graveyard of the Forgotten—a place where we intended to bury Evan. As they carried out their grim mission, we finished our own. The circle was complete, carved into the earth like an ancient scar, ready to channel forces that none of us fully understood. I couldn’t help but dub it in my mind: *the Circle of Torment*. It was a dark name, but somehow, it felt fitting for what lay ahead.

The internal pain that he will endure for his sins, echoed in the wind, like a soul burning in hell. My eyes remained shielded by Joffrey’s chest until the screams disappeared, but even after they disappeared, they still haunted my mind as a reminder of what evilness and darkness would bring. As I slowly turned back towards the circle, I could still feel the internal fire from hell burning, as Hades remained standing within the circle, now staring at Ambrogio.