Death Angel From A Quiet Place Novels & Stories

I expected it from the others, but him? “I’m known as the Angel of Death. Gunner is a sick twisted person who likes to torture people slowly, for hours, hell, even days. People fear him. Me? I am calm, but as I said, I am known as the Angel of Death. A few are unlucky enough to meet a side of me that slips free. They push, and I break, and I show no mercy. I give up on questions. I give up on everything and just keep hitting and hitting until I can’t anymore. They know, if that happens, they are dead regardless.”

Her fingers brushed his cheek, still warm but pale, and something inside her cracked. Tears began to slip from her eyes—slow, silent, and heavy. She hovered over him, her chest heaving, her mind screaming. Please... don’t die on me. But across the room stood the devil himself. DANTE. Unbothered. Cold. Detached. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t even look at Damon bleeding to death. Instead, he stood before the wall like it was a gallery—staring at the photographs of her. His fingers held a cigarette lazily, smoke curling into the dim air like poison.

"What could that be? Amelia asked shivering. "The question is who could that be " Eric replied quiet unmoved by the gun shots. "It could be Derek, Samantos, Anna or anybody ". He took the fork and knife. He held the full chicken on one of the trays with the fork and cut it with the knife. He picked it with the knife into his mouth savoring every taste. "God please forgive me, holy Mart take control. Angel Micheal, son of God. I mean Angel Gabriel, the son of God, oh my fucking God, someone should just take control ". She was breathing heavily as she said the prayers.

He wants her to pet him again. He turns his head, staring at her profile as she drives. The sunlight catches the stray hairs escaping her ponytail. Beautiful. Dangerous. Mine. --- [Rea's POV] We finally reach the drop-off point—a shattered plaza near the city limits. The Angelic Squad is waiting. The leader, Raphael Sterling, stands amidst the ruins like a statue carved from ice. His white military uniform is spotless, free of even a speck of dust, a stark contrast to the blood and grime of the city. Six pristine white wings are folded neatly behind his back.

Bursting into tears, Mary hugged me tightly, and at that moment, I found myself wondering… Would Scott cry for me like this at my funeral? Would he regret everything he ever did to me? - During a thunderstorm, I fainted at home. My heart couldn't supply enough blood, after all, so my body was already fragile to begin with. When the ambulance arrived, I thought I saw a familiar figure through my hazy vision. He pleaded in a trembling voice, as if he was going to cry, "Don't fall asleep, Wendy! Please don't fall asleep!" Those words sounded familiar. Back when I first took a bullet for this man overseas, he had cried just like this, begging me not to lose consciousness.

That's how people on the edge of divorce should act. Worried Prof. Dalloz might go in harder, I leaned close. "Prof. Dalloz, we're on his plane. Maybe ease up a little?" Another cold snort. But he didn't say a word. Just stared out the window. "I'm gonna rest for a bit," he said, eyes drifting shut. That was the last time he did. He looked the same—head high, back straight. Even in death, he still carried that quiet pride.

They were both oblivious to the pictures that were being taken of them. Lifting his head, he smiled at Taz. “I have something for you.” Angel handed him the white shirt box. He opened it and removed the cut, letting the box and tissue paper fall to the ground. The first thing that she saw was that it was not her cut, and yet it was. The center patch was newer, the devil, who now had multicolored braids, sat on the motorcycle with a halo hanging haphazardly on the left horn, giant angel wings flowed out behind him. The bottom rocker declared her to be Sinners Daughter and the top one proclaimed her as The Devil Herself.

ANGEL'S POV Angel put into her mouth the drug that was given to her by the man she had met for less than a second; in other words, the young man was still a stranger to her. But she couldn't resist his teasing and drugs. Angel didn't think anymore because, in these situations, now that she's drowning in sadness, the only thing on his mind is, How can she escape from this sadness? But no one can ever escape sadness because, with every step we take, we cannot avoid carrying this sadness.Angel swallowed it because she didn't understand when she looked into Daem's eyes.

Hazel POV “Angel, listen to me”, I say, but all of a sudden, I hear the gun going, and when I turn around, Elliot is on the floor, and Theo is shooting Angel. “Don’t kill him”, I shout before falling to my knees in front of Elliot’s bleeding body. I place my hands on top of the bleeding wound and put pressure on it. “Elliot, baby”, I cry, but no response, his breathing is superficial, and he is getting colder.

I swiftly grabbed my silver knives from my boots and dug it into his back , slicing through his skin and pulling it out swiftly and he fell to his knees ‘’You think a little bit of wolves bane and silver will end me , I’m an original wolf you bitch ‘’ Rox cursed out as he struggled to get up with the help of the table in the office I chuckled and punched him in the face saying ‘’ believe me you’d wish it was the wolves bane and silver that killed you ‘’ With that I grabbed his hair and dragged him out to the balcony ‘’Who are you .... what are you ? I can’t even catch your scent. You don’t even have an aura ‘’ Rox asked trying his best to stay on his feet I laughed reaching for the syringe i