Como Murió Poncio Pilatos Novels & Stories

Stiliyan says, handing over the phone back to me, “Where is my son? Is he alright, where are you now?” says a very agitated Pablo, I take in a deep breath, my body trembling in fear, tears threatening to spill out my eyes, Stiliyan notices my discomfort and holds my palm in support, “Christian is dead,” I say quietly, I heard loud screams, I am certain it was from my mum and Juliana, he says nothing for a few seconds, “Bring him home Catalina,” Pablo says in a stern voice abruptly ending the phone call.

As Sebastian was too busy being pulled by the other kids, I had eavesdropped to hear more about this. “He died? When?!” “Last night,” one of the sisters said. “They said he committed suicide.” I saw one of them mark the sign of the cross and clasped her hands, “Goodness. Perhaps he was being eaten by his own conscience.” “I doubt it. That man had no remorse during the trials too, remember?” “Susan Hail, I hope she’s also reflecting on her actions.” I couldn’t help but finally enter the room, casually. I needed to know more. I needed to ask.

Others screamed curses at him, throwing stones, calling him a false Messiah. Yet as the stones flew through the air, they fell harmlessly to the ground as they neared him. It seemed like everyone in this crowd had a different opinion, a different agenda, a different perspective of him. Caitlin could see from the angry faces of the guards that the Romans were threatened by him and wanted him under a tight watch. Amidst the Romans she saw standing a single man, clearly their governor. She recognized his face from the history books: Pontius Pilate. The Prefect of Rome. The one who had killed Jesus.

I mused. “That's actually more than just a little probable,” Pietro confirmed. “I even have a theory on who she truly was.” He snickered, inching back again. “There was this case where a wealthy Italian family died in a car accident. There was a rumor that a young heiress survived. As I recall, their last name was something like Ve—” A swishing sound cut off his words, and we both pulled out our guns. Pietro's eyes widened, then turned lifeless. A heartbeat later, he fell face-first to the ground, revealing a hole in a windowsill and a much larger one in the back of his head.

Everyone will die in the world, but we will be the first. "Hmm—" Adrastos touched his head—“Who might be the one who bet enormous money on our disobedient young man?" I pondered what he had said. Who would have had a large sum of money swapped for my life? What sort of death might happen to me? Adrastos spoke up abruptly. “Wow! Look who’s getting nailed on the cross! Mr. Elijah Martinez chose crucifixion to kill Mario!” I just swallowed what he said. I’m going to be nailed on a cross.

Cassandra arranged to have her and Andre's surnames changed to Marin, as she no longer wanted them to be associated with Volkov. As quickly as it exploded, the story faded when Pietro was found dead in his cell. His cellmate had killed him with a shiv. There would be no trial, and the public's bloodlust seemed to be quenched by his ultimate end. Gloria pleaded guilty and avoided having to endure a lengthy trial of her own.

Her spine snapped on impact, leaving her to spend the rest of her days in a wheelchair. Rumor had it she was later sold to enemies and became a plaything in underground casinos, tortured day and night. … Three years later, Sergio couldn't take the torment any longer and died in the psychiatric ward. His death came on Luca's anniversary. I stood in the family cemetery, holding my daughter, Fiorella Palo. Luca's photo still held that gentle gaze. "Mamma, I heard Zio Luca was a legend. They say he was even more incredible than Nonno!" Fiorella said.

And she couldn't help but wonder if Anthony had really died. She asked, "Has anyone seen Anthony the Pontifex Maximus?" The Paladin Jankovic said, "I was just fighting with her. She wounded a Prince of Vampire and then chased after him." At this point, Alex could already be sure that the one who died was Anthony. She said with a grim look on her face, "My sacred Six-lights Star has just sent out a reaction. Anthony is dead." Another Pontifex Maximus Valderrama said, "I just felt the reaction too. He died in the West."

Chris answered the demon as he waits for Joaqin to pick up his phone. “Chris? Why did you call?” Joaqin asked as soon as he answered the call. “I have to tell you something important.” “I’m listening.” Joaqin answered as his eyes is busy roaming the place for people who’s still around the scene. “Paul, the one who died, he didn’t commit suicide. He was pushed by someone.” Joaqin immediately looked around if anyone is suspicious and he saw a group of men that kept on looking at the police that are investigating the place.

The twins already were there, reclaiming their bows as Porcius said, “It’s like they wanted us to find them here now.” Quintus and August joined them. “Perhaps they did indeed.” Quintus said quietly, thinking it all over. “I do think they want us to die.” August started to say, “They don’t give a damn, sir . . . ” Quintus’ eyes snapped up and drilled into August. “You! German and lover of the Christ. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. What a deceiver you are.” August’s eyes turned cold. “I hope you never do, Quintus Pilate, until your dying day, no matter how soon that might be, sir.”