Novel & Cerita Death Mask Soul Eater

A spray of black, steaming blood hit the snow between us. Kaden let out a choked sound, dropping to the ground beside me. He didn't care about the army or the Council or the diamond anymore. He grabbed my shoulders, his eyes wide with horror as he looked at the black liquid. "This is soul-rot," Kaden breathed, his tactical mind immediately identifying the darkness. "Damon... that coward. He used a death-tether."

"You’re a scavenger, Kaelen. Silas pulled you out of a gutter in Life Seven and gave you a suit. You don't know anything about souls." ​"I know how they burn," Kaelen countered. He raised his thin, translucent hands. ​Suddenly, the floor beneath us didn't feel solid. It felt like we were standing on a lake of cold oil. The "Sin-Eater" began to draw a breath, and as he did, the memories I had worked so hard to bury began to leak out of my skin like smoke. ​The hospital bed. The smell of antiseptic. The moment Julian’s scalpel touched my throat in the Ninth Life.

Kayson pondered for a moment and asked, “Uncle Tinsley, where is the corpse of the driver who crashed the car into you?” Jeremy said, “It’s with the police.” “Have the morgue stop the dissection. I’ll head over in another two days. Perhaps I might find something there.” It would only take two more days for his darksoul to be fully formed. By then, he would use it with some Dead Soul Charm to gather the deceased’s dead soul by force and acquire some information from the dead soul. “Sure.” Jeremy trusted Kayson very much and did not question further. At the Skyworth House…

When our whole family saw the death timer for my sister will end on her sixteenth birthday, she became the most important person in the family. She suddenly took priority in everything, from food to dresses, and even bedtime stories. I felt for her, but I was also jealous that she was given everything. However, a day before her sixteenth birthday, my parents locked me up in the storeroom in fear that I would make a mess of things. I kept hammering the door, crying, "Mom, let me out! I'm having a fever, and my head hurts!" Mom didn't believe me. "Just stop! Your sister will die in just a day, and you're playing sick to gain our sympathy?! Don't you understand anything?!" "No…" I tried m

"Why are you still hugging it? She's already dead! How much longer do you want to use her against me? Give it to me!" We both let out a guttural scream when Harvey managed to snatch the urn from me—one from extreme anger and another in complete anguish. When I scratched him by the hand, he shot me a cold glare. "Fine! I'll give it to you!" Harvey gave a loud yell before prying open the lid to the urn, hurling it toward the ceiling right in front of me. "Mom!" I screamed, lunging forward to try and collect the scattered ashes. However, he forcefully pressed my head down, grinding it hard against the floor.

I fall to my knees and double over for a second as the vision of Hugo fills my mind. In a flash, Doze is next to me. “I felt it too when my old man died. It should pass quicker for you because your wolf wasn’t really attached to him. Their souls never bonded,” he explains. I grunt and try to push to my feet but a wave of nausea hits me. “Just sit tight for a minute, I’m gonna get the hose,” he says, as I throw myself on my back. The feeling is like a bad leg cramp all over my whole body and for a moment, I can’t move.

The blood had nearly stopped flowing. The position of his right hand was strange; his fingers curled as if trying to grasp something. I crouched down. In his open left hand, written crookedly in blood, was a single word: "Run". 02:14. One minute left. 02:15 came. Nothing happened. I was still alive. "Substitute death successful. Eric Dawson was killed at 2:14 in Parking Lot C. Remaining loop time: 48 hours. "Go to Parking Lot C. There’s something for you."

Then— The light in them vanished. Gone. Just like that. The creature released him. He dropped to the ground. Lifeless. No wound. No blood. Nothing. Silence hit the group like a blow. “What… did it do?” someone whispered. Kael’s voice was tight. “It didn’t kill him…” A pause. “…it took something.” Damon’s jaw clenched. “Soul,” he said quietly. The word felt wrong— But it fit. Behind them—

Instead, there was a fleeting flash of triumph and a cold smile hidden beneath her fragile mask. I had seen that look before. It was the same look on the faces of the rogues who tore open my stomach. My soul trembled suddenly. Could she have something to do with my death?

He never gets the chance. Kieran appears between us without warning or ceremony. The men do not see a man. They see Death. Not a figure they can name. Not something human. Something final. This is what Death looks like when tenderness has been withdrawn. Kieran’s hand closes around the first man’s throat. Not to kill the body. To claim the soul. The scream cuts off as something essential is pulled free of him, taken cleanly away. The second man turns to run. Kieran turns his head.