Darkest Part By Red Novels & Stories

DARKEST HOURS CHAPTER EIGHT JOHN PAUL'S POV ********************************************* Those sweet words of Treasure, got deep into me as I tried to control myself around her. She held me close and pulled me into long, deep kiss. By this time, i had the burning desire to tear her apart and make her my woman in a wink. But i still saw her as an angel that shouldn’t be touched while i was the sinner that needed to be cleansed, before i could have my first taste of her fruit.

Yes, that will do. If you guys are wondering what a blind kid is seeing. Well, I can't see anything. That's it. Darkness. Dullness. I can't see but, I thank the heavens every single day that I can still hear them. It's just getting worse day by day. Although I can't be a burden here, I can't do anything but just thank them. They are the light in my dark path. They are my guide and I'm more than thankful for that. Curse that bastard. It's his fault. I can't be what I want to be anymore. I'll just be a bother with my whole life, am I? I can't help it. It's getting worse. I can feel this stupid tears building inside their cage, again. No no. I don't. I won't cry. Not again. Please, don't come o

My body swayed slowly with the rhythm. Then suddenly the lights of the bar went out. Darkness swallowed everything. My body jerked with fear. My phobia of darkness chose this exact moment to wake up. Luckily, I had memorized the path to the dressing room. I rushed toward it with wild breaths. The crowd of bastards began shouting angrily. Their frustration had nothing to do with the lights going out. Nicole followed me, clearly scared. The way the power disappeared had been truly terrifying. "Oh my God. What is happening in the bar tonight? We have never seen anything like this before."

Waiting. I knew I couldn’t do this alone. There was only one person I trusted to help me cut through the darkness — Eli. We hadn’t spoken in a while. Life had pulled us in different directions, but the bond we shared wasn’t so easily broken. He was a rare mix of brilliance and kindness, a private investigator with a hacker’s mind, able to trace signals, penetrate networks, and unearth secrets most people never knew existed. More than that, he was a friend who never judged, who never turned away — the kind of person you could call in your darkest hour and know he’d come running.

Out of the darkness, four figures emerged, their movements careful and playful. Bandits? They looked the part with their clothes torn, their hair shabby looking and their steps unsteady with the hunger of men who hadn’t tasted comfort in years. My blood turned to ice. But it wasn’t their cruel smile or appearance that stole the breath from my lungs. It was their eyes. They glowed. Not the gold of Blaze, not the amber of Jaxon. These burned an unnatural, sinister red. Okay, definitely not bandits. Most definitely not the usual bandits.

I was already turning away, mind spinning with the promise of a hot bath, scrubbing the blood off, letting the water turn pink while I planned my next move, when his hand shot out. Fingers clamped around my wrist, yanking me back so hard I slammed against his chest and blood smeared between us, warm and sticky. His mouth hovered at my ear, breath hot, voice dropped to that dark, velvet rumble that felt like sin wrapped in confession. “What’s your darkness like, Red?” The words vibrated through my skull, straight down my spine, pooling wet and aching between my thighs. I let out a low, filthy, insane laugh tilting my head so my lips grazed the shell of his ear in return.

I muttered as I turned to leave. Without another glance back, I walked out of the clinic. Leaving Blake in charge of bringing her to me, at the Darkest Dungeon. We call it the Darkest Dungeon, not because it's dark literally. But because the harshest torture happens there. Those that don't deserve an easy death... Depending on their offense, ends up there. Where I could drag out their pains for weeks, months and even years. The last person that visited the Darkest Dungeon spent a year and two months there, facing the ultimate torture by the pass of each day until I finally decided to end him.

"Generate. Bleed. Serve the Canopy." Participant 61 didn't walk into the arena; he erupted into it. He was a massive, heavily scarred riveter from the deep kinetic forges. The Red Rust had completely consumed his nervous system. His aura, viewed through Marcus's Chrome Diamond pupils, was a terrifying, jagged storm of toxic crimson spikes. His eyes were entirely black, dilated with sheer, psychotic agony. He was no longer a man; he was a vessel of pressurized, violent kinetic sickness desperately trying to explode.

“I'm sorry, man. For everything. But if you ever get to see her again, what are you gonna do?“ Arthur looked out the window again. The car had come to a halt. A few blocks away was the nightclub. He turned back to Richard with a sad smile. “I'll hold onto her and never let go. That's how much I still love her. They arrived at the nightclub minutes later, cloaking their melancholic mood with a slice of ecstasy. Richard felt a surge of excitement, as he moved his body to the rhythm of the beat that reverberated in the building. He tapped Arthur's shoulder in laughter,“Man, it's good to be home.“ Arthur puffed and chuckled at his silliness. “Make yourself at home then.“ “I plan on. Hey, man, ju

Instead, he scooped me in his arms and brought me to my bed. There was a mix of excitement and fear which instantly crept into my whole being. Excited because my curiosity will be sufficed but fearful because I know this might break me or make me. Again, Pierre Monteblanco is a mystery. A dangerous one. And what a fool am I to throw myself into his dark fate. However, the need to feel this dark persona is heavier than all the things bothering me in my mind. I just need to satisfy this curiosity or else I'll be damned.