Crimson Lotus Novels & Stories

“But I’m not letting some ghost in lipstick steal my kill and walk away like a fucking legend.” I stood, crushing the cigarette under my heel. Amara Voss. The Revenant. I didn’t care if she was a myth, monster, or martyr. I would find her. And if she wanted war, I’d give her one she’d never forget.

That night, Anthony's mother, the ever-so-sweet Camila Morentti, held my hand and asked with a warm smile, "Sweetie, this is your home now. What would you like for a wedding present? You name it, and it's yours." Before I could even think of an answer, Anthony chimed in, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he gazed at me, "Mom, let's give Isabella the hot spring retreat up on the mountain! She can't stand the cold, and it'll be the perfect cozy spot for her in the winter. Plus, it's great for her health." Camila agreed without a second thought. Anthony remembered how much I hated the cold. Sebastian remembered, too. That was why, in what felt like a previous life, he used my deepest fear in

Maybe that was why Marc even had this ceremony done today. "Now the ceremony shall be finalized," the old man said as I watched him bring out what seemed like a red ointment. A finger dipped inside as he marked my forehead with the ointment. A slight drop dripped on my nose. A sniff left a stun. It wasn’t just a colored ointment; from the smell, this was blood. That was something I was sure of. "Stop!" A yell echoed through the room. As I turned to see who it was, Dominic was standing there, beside him was Nate.

The window looked out over the Academy's eastern gardens, where students still wandered in the twilight, where the closing ball's decorations still hung like memories of celebration. And on the pilow, positioned with deliberate care at the exact center where morning light would strike first, lay a single white lotus. Its petals were pristine, perfect, the white of fresh snow. Except for the edges. The edges were stained crimson, as if dipped in blood and left to dry. The stain was recent - Lumira could smell it, that metallic tang that had drawn her back to this room. Not paint. Not dye. Blood, or something chemically indistinguishable from it.

WE ALL STAND QUIETLY on the path leading up the dark-gloomy castle entrance as the three matrons carry out a ritual. Seven small outcropping rocks lie spread wide apart in a horizontal line at the path leading to the castle steps and Oniko with the assistance of Bashir and Biola moves to each of the rocks, taking one of the seven rams that had been made available for the ritual, slaughtering the rams upon it and letting the blood spill upon the rock while the matrons follow them from behind chanting incantations.

I looked like a dwarf beside him although I am taller than other girls, as I am five feet seven inches. “I am asking what your name is…” he said in his cold tone and I felt stupid in front of him. I thought he was staring at me but he was just waiting for my answer about my name. I breathed out heavily. My rating for delivery will go down from one to zero because he doesn't seem happy with my delivery service. Oh, shit*! “My name is… my name is... Crimson.” There! I gave him my name! I don’t like my name at all. How I wish that the orphanage named me Red or Scarlet and it was much better than Crimson.

A recognition that lived below thought. The woman's eyes opened fully. Crimson. Not human. Deep glowing red lit from somewhere inside, burning steady and old and alive. Tyra stepped back. "Who are you." "You already know," the woman said. Her voice was warm and cracked at the edges like something that had been through fire and come out the other side. She moved forward, each step soundless on the black soil. Her crimson eyes moved over Tyra's face with a desperation that was almost physical. Like someone who had been kept from something for so long that seeing it again hurt. "You have always known."

He showed him in every way possible that he was his special and precious someone. At the beginning, their life might not have been that lively. But after meeting each other it got more colourful. At first the other lost hope and a heart to love but after tormenting seasons he still found a time to bloom. Like a flower withering in harsh conditions, it picks up after being cared for. For Lui Xian, Feng Shao was his Lotus Flower. THE END

they said in one voice and very loudly. It was known that the golden lotus flower had a special character in the southern clan. It was also the first treasure that the southern sect had possessed since the southern sect began to grow and develop. In the world of martial arts, legend has it that the golden lotus flower was made by the great Jimmy XIII, the leader and founder of the Jimmy XIII mountain, which he named after him. He used the power of the sun, sacrifice, and was supposed to symbolize the sun's rays because of his very luminous radiance under the bright sunlight. Legend says that the golden lotus flower can bring out tremendous powers far from any powers that humans have ever see

Nakangiting pagpapaunlak ko at inalalayan si Crimson papasok sa entrance ng venue. ⚘ little ⊹ lies ··································································································································