Dark Bloom Novels & Stories

Crimson spots contrasted sharply with its whiteness. Blood... I smell blood... Sweet smell, with the sour taste of magic... Zomzom got a strong whiff. The woman crumpled the kerchief in her hand, eyes glinting with joyful malice. Then, with her other hand, she took a small stiletto from between her breasts, opened her fingers wide and cut herself on the palm. Her own blood soaked into the tissue, exciting the dead man’s sense of smell. The Dark stirred in the air. Greedy and hungry. Not the Dark serving necromancers, but the other, living on Twilight’s lower levels and rarely rising up from their depths.

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."

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.

“It’s just like I warned. The moonveil blossom can serve as either a cloaking plant or a hallucination pollen. Whoever your mate saw was a trick of the mind. Not you.” “Save me the science talk.” Then he looked at me with an emotion I wasn’t sure I wanted to peg as sincere. “I also did this for you, brother. Using the flower was to build a rift between both of you so after her death, you’d have no attachment to her death. She served her usefulness after all.” Diandra’s mother screamed, taking steps forward that were quickly intercepted by a guard. She threw herself back into her husband’s arms, sobbing. My fists closed with impossible tightness. I tried not to focus on the rage my wolf was f