Cursed Minion Images Novels & Stories

“That’s what the stories from the mines mean. The hiyasha is not a real demon but a cult. They must be looking for Adamantine, a piece of the second Fire from Heaven that landed in the south.” “Exactly,” Aki said. “They’re also involved in the slave trade because they need miners to dig for Adamantine.” “What does he look like?” Temujin asked. “All members of the Hiyasha-to dress the same. They wear a Slayer uniform that’s similar to what Chief Reijo wore in Blarjokull, with two large panels down the front, but instead of blue and white, the colors are red and black. They also wear hoods and their mempos cover their entire faces. Because the cultists are all red Slayers, their masks depict t

The air grew colder, and the oppressive darkness seemed to deepen as the creature emerged, its figure towering and ominous. The minion she had summoned was no ordinary servant of darkness. Clad in armor that seemed forged from the void itself, the being moved with a silent grace that belied its hulking frame. Its eyes, empty voids of pure blackness, stared forward with a single-minded focus. Each step it took was soundless, as if the very ground feared to acknowledge its presence. A long, serrated blade hung at its side, dripping with a dark, ichorous substance that sizzled upon contact with the air.

I was an unusual child, I began speaking and walking flawlessly at only six months old, I had impeccable hearing also, of all my very special and strange abilities, I hated that one the most, because I’ve heard nothing but hurtful words. My eyes often randomly turns golden yellow and then goes back to normal, I grew up hearing parents tell their children to not have anything to do with me, I grew up hearing everyone say I was cursed and I brought bad luck to whoever gets involved with me. Ofcourse what would I have them think, even I knew that I wasn’t normal. I grew up watching family and friends desert my mother, leaving her with only me. The guilt plagued me. Her suffering was my fault. I

Lanton is bellowing at Haris, who is uncomprehending. He throws a punch at him and immediately Haris falls to the ground. Lanton now stands on top of the boy and starts throwing more punches at his face, Haris tries to fight back but can't because he is almost paralysed. "Lanton, stop it! Stop it!" I shout at him. "Lanton!" It's Dimas who does something, he pulls Lanton and pushes him away, going to check the state of Haris, who is groaning on the floor. I run towards him and realize that his face is bloodied.

She screamed, making list of the people flinch and younger children cry in fright. "But you know what, I will leave and you will never see me again. Of course I won't leave without a gift for your unborn child, whether male or female, the child shall not experience the feeling of full wolf transformation. You can try to break the curse but you will fail and you will also beg to find me and you will also fail. This is my parting gift to you," she smiled deviously and just within a blink of an eye, Rebecca was gone. ~JASON~

Big and dangerous that will no doubt have grave consequences for us all. Especially the one who has hired us all to this Facility. He is mad with a desire for eternal life. He has mages visit us sometimes to do different experiments on the Subject. What they do to him is beyond me. It sometimes appears back in its room with strange black markings on its body. After a few days though; the markings just disappear. This place fills me with dread, and I don’t know how much longer I can continue to work for these kinds of people. The work here greatly tests one’s faith in God.

Then Cammie studied my face. "What?" I asked. "Nothing," she said and looked away. "Cam, tell me why Jacques called you a drudge girl?" "Oh, you really don't know what that means? That's one of the reasons I wanted to gut that girl like a fish!" Cammie said distastefully, but when she saw my blank expression, she heaved a sigh, "Well, drudges are human slaves who serve vampires. They follow and listen to whatever their masters tell them to, and they even provide their own blood to them. I have read that in the vampire stories."

"Alaric." But what made Siron's blood freeze was the illustration on the next page: Alaric lay in a coffin, but black tendrils grew from his chest, spreading and choking the people around him. And in the corner of the image, there was a symbol, identical to the one on Siron's wrist. "The curse wasn't just a curse," Kit said, his eyes scanning the text. "I... I don't fully understand this language, but there are the words 'verschmelzung', fusion. And 'seele', soul."

Morwen found us in the infirmary, where dozens lay gasping for air like fish on stone. She didn’t stride in with arrogance. She looked very humble. Her robes were torn, her face ashen, one hand holding her chest as if holding her own breath inside. When she tried to speak, blood bubbled from her lips,her voice already half-gone. She pressed a trembling hand to the floor, and with the last of her magic, etched a single word in ash: DEVOURER OF ANIMUS Elian looked at her for a long while. “She’s not faking,” he whispered, eyes filled with horror. “She is telling the truth this time.”

The pictures were zoomed in and show that the black thing like the river that is connected to the main black patch was after all the cursed ones from many areas that came to join the main army. Estimating from the area, the width and the length of that black and long line, it could be said that there are more than ten thousand cursed ones in the horde that are coming to join the main army. Worse… that line was on the side of a smaller one and there are more than ten lines that are connected to the main army that are growing at every passing minute.