Death's Head 2 Romane & Geschichten

I turned to see my mother collapsed against Jason. I helped him lift her up and the look of terror on her face is something I will never forget. “We need to go. Now.” Was all she said. Jason and I put her arms over our shoulders and walked her out of the stadium to the car. I turned to look back and honest to the Goddess I wish I never had. There, in front of the crowd stood Alpha Austin beating his chest holding something high for the crowd to see. I swallowed the bike that rose in my throat as recognition hit me. Hanging in his outstretched hand by the hair was my father’s head.

He doubles over, and I take the opportunity to land an elbow to the back of his neck making him drop to the floor. “Are you ready to die like your friend?” I ask. “Fuck you bitch. You can’t win against our army. Scàthach will triumph and you will all die.” “Ew, can we not do the villain monologue? It’s so annoying and cliché.” I say before I extend my claws and rip his heart out through his back. That was seriously badass and gross, all at the same time. Hey, he’s dead, his friend is dead, and Wyatt is dead. That’s all that matters.

This new test, however, was legally binding and established Daniel as Florence's sole heir. Florence's condition deteriorated further over the next six months. One late autumn evening, a caretaker played a movie for her. When the scene showed a young man speeding on a highway and crashing, Florence suddenly reacted violently. She threw herself from the sixth floor and died instantly. Acting as her late son's widow, Marigold was the one who handled Florence's funeral arrangements. With no surviving parents or children, Florence's death ensured that all her assets, including the share of Chester's estate she had inherited, went entirely to Daniel.

I stare at the lovely city of Manchester as I weigh my options. It’s either bankruptcy and death or marriage and coronation. I guess the latter isn’t much of a bad idea, only it is. Whatever the case, my father’s murders must pay. I have a secret after all, I can hardly die.

He simply nodded. “I trust you,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. I didn’t waste another second. I quickly got to my feet and took a step forward, surveying the horde. I had a few tricks up my sleeve, and with Ethan resting behind me, I knew I had to make this count. My weapon was ready, but it wasn’t the only thing I had. The infected weren’t as quick as they used to be—they were sluggish, distracted by their own hunger. I moved quickly, taking them down one by one, careful to save enough energy to protect myself and Ethan.

Jenna was dumbfounded. "You… You were reborn too?" I pressed my lips together, answering, "Yeah. Maybe the universe noticed how unjustly I died, so it gave me a second chance at life. Jenna, in this life, you're going to face the consequences of your greed." With that, I hung up. On the live stream, Jenna was so devastated she couldn't even cry anymore. As Keith wasn't the type to be merciful, he pinned Jenna to the ground and punched her face repeatedly.

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.

"Honey, werewolves transform at night. It’s normal that you don’t remember. I’ll watch over you from now on. I won’t let anyone discover your identity." I crouched there, my mind in chaos. If this were real… Did that mean I wasn’t human? Why did I have no memory of what happened at night? And why had I died four times, trapped in this endless loop? One question after another shattered everything I thought I knew about the world. If I weren’t human, that wasn’t scientific. But was this death loop scientific? My in-laws, now convinced, raised their voices again, pointing fingers. "What kind of spawn did your family give birth to?! Eating raw meat and drinking blood, and you still let her roam

" I wondered who it was that had used my phone to send these messages after I died. I tried my best to recall what happened after I entered the basement. However, I could not remember anything else other than the sound of something heavy dropping onto the floor. The lights in the basement were kept on for the next few days. Layla was focused on carving a plaster head using a carving knife. She traced the eye on the head carefully with the sharp tip of the knife. The facial features on the plaster head felt so familiar that it made Layla pause. Her hands trembled slightly. Philip walked over to her and gave her a nod of approval. He pointed to the sculpture of a human figure standing in a cor

Hajin and Jihan glanced up to see the young Mort throw them a cold, hard stare whose eyes glow in red and whose pupils were vertical slits like a cat's concealed with murderous intent. "Bring them to me." Eyes devoid of emotions, Mort coldly ordered Klauss, and that the butler immediately obeyed. Klauss picked up the decapitated twins' heads whose eyes were dilated in horror and gave them to his young master. Both are still alive even though their heads have been severely cut off. There was a trace of horror on Hajin and Jihan's faces when they saw how their headless bodies fell to the cold marble floor. Words left unspoken, Mort's overwhelming dark and foreboding aura engulfs the entire pla