Dark Bloom Novels & Stories

Dark bored said. Blake frowned at him. "Do you believe you'll still be alive, Blake?" asked Dark. Blake was amazed and looked at his body lying in bed. The noise from this device was strong, Blake had a bandage on his head, he also had a bandage on his chest. Blake couldn't resist hanging onto his head and chest. Blake turned to Dark, and looked at what he was wearing. Dark is all black, with gloves and a coat. Its elegance was more pronounced in the coat, but the expression on his face was still the same.

Dark responded. "Fine then." Belphagor said and clasped his dried bony long hands together, a light in the color of a lava shine around his rubbing hands and when it faded a small bottle with black liquid was on his plan and he fling it at Dark who caught it effortlessly. "Be sure of what you are doing Dark, I might not like you but you are always in my heart."

Bloom jumped when his palm slammed against the wall, just above her left shoulder and she fearfully trailed her gaze up to meet the ominous demon caging her to the wall with his large body. In the depth of those blue-green orbs, shrouded in pure darkness was the amassing flames of a fire so intense Bloom was set aflame in a volcanic eruption. She burned like the hottest fire and effectively melted into a submissive puddle. His lips tore into a smirk, “Enthralling”. ***

the view here is incredibly fascinating, but it can’t make my heart feel fine or neither amaze. “I think he is not really alone” a voice behind me “What makes you think he is not alone?” “You see Mr. Carter, there are a lot of stars and moon at the same galaxy where the sun is, it’s just that he is the brightest of all the stars and he shine on different time here on earth.” “Well he looks alone to me” “He is just too bright that it overpowers the other stars. Not because you cannot see it means they are not actually there.” “Well said, anyway what should I call you again?” I turn and face to the woman Andrea hires for me

Paul made a fire and now roasts something on a stick. While he isn't looking in my direction, I find myself staring as leftover tension churns within me. The light from the fire has just the right angle, highlighting Paul’s dark eyes with sparkling waves. His jawline is very sharp, and his eyes are gray. Ok, not simply gray. Like the color of the earth when it is in need of more water and you feel compelled to provide the nourishment it craves, or the color of dark honey, extremely sweet and just a touch bitter.

Summer's POV Bright blinding light pushed through the dreamless darkness that Summer was enjoying, beckoning her to wake up and embrace the new day where all her troubles were still very much existent. Sighing she allowed her eyes to open taking in the man that still slept soundly beside her.

The air around her crackled with raw power as she turned back towards the attackers, her fear morphing into a blinding rage. With a scream that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house, Aqua unleashed a torrent of dark magic. The energy exploded from her, a violent wave of force that knocked the witches off their feet. The room was bathed in a sinister glow as the dark magic tore through the intruders, their cries of pain mingling with the howling wind.

Lowan asked. "Yes. De-souling is a process of conjuring your soul as a weapon. Not everyone is capable of this; only those who are touched by the dark can de-soul. They harbor a dark seedling inside their souls capable of either great good or great evil. Unlike you, most individuals cannot control the darkness and end up being controlled by the dark instead. Some call them possessed, some call them corrupted, some even call them demons, but the truth is, they are seedlings. Seedlings of the dark, hence, darklings," explained Ms. Reina. She continued, "I would like to know more about you guys and how your powers came to be. Please, share your story."

Darkness. It consumed her and it was all she could think about. The darkness, how thick it was, how it made her want to scream so loud that her lungs would hurt. The pain was next, it came like a freight train to the skull, fast, sudden and unexpected. It made her moan and groan, her legs shook—wait… no they didn’t. She was laying down on her back and her head was on the softest of pillows. Roses. They came next.

Vernon had returned, looking exhausted. He was even holding a bouquet of fresh flowers. He walked toward me with no trace of guilt or remorse. "Avril, I brought you your favorite roses." Red roses represented sincere and passionate love. Right now, those flowers looked like a joke in Vernon's hands. I accepted the roses. Thinking that I was no longer angry, Vernon began to explain. "It's Peggy Cahill. She's been diagnosed with bone cancer. All she wants is to marry me.