Death's Obsession Book の小説・ストーリー

“Even after everything. The blood, the lies, the betrayals… I still choose you.” Matteo’s eyes darkened with something fierce and tender. “Come here.” I didn’t hesitate. I rounded the table and climbed into his lap as best I could with the restraints. His mouth found mine instantly — a deep, desperate kiss that tasted of blood and survival and forever. His tongue stroked mine with slow, claiming strokes, pouring every ounce of love and obsession into it. I moaned softly into his mouth, hands framing his face, thumbs brushing the silver scar I had come to adore.

It gave me the chills. To match his diminished, almost dull demeanor, he spoke slower, and his voice had grown deeper, like I’d heard him the night before. Not only that, the way he described the cases, the kinds of things he said, everything about him screamed about a fixation with death that bordered obsession. But also about the path he’d chosen turning out to be so much more dangerous than what he’d ever expected. About considering to walk away, but knowing he was already in too deep to quit, because the power that came with fame and fortune was addictive and he wouldn’t give it up, even if it cost him his very soul.

He was tired of life already and it would be better if he would just bleed to death, he thought to himself. He recalled how his teacher had taught about death. It was like a deep cold sleep of no return. He liked the sound of it and thought maybe it was time for him to have a taste of it. But then, the door opened showing a girl in her early twenties. She was light skinned with a slim stature and dark long ebony hairs. She was the girl with Derrick earlier. "Hey.." She called as she walked into the room. He sat up at once with the blood oozing down his face.

Inside there are black candles, several scrolls, and a thick pitch-black book. Of course, it is the book that gets my attention. I took it and inspected it if there are dents, torn pages, or mites. Fortunately, although the book looks old, it also looks new, feels new, and smells new. It has gold writings on it, Death of God. "Death of God?! How did this get to here? I am sure if Mama saw you, she's gonna burn you," I said laughing at my own jokes. See, I am not just unlucky, I am also corny and crazy.

He stood over me, head tilted slightly, dark eyes burning with something intense I didn’t want to name. “You hesitated,” he murmured, voice low and lethal. I swallowed hard, the motion making me hyper-aware of my pulse hammering in my throat. He was still too close, watching me like he was waiting for me to make another mistake. “You do that in the real world,” he breathed, leaning down so his breath ghosted across my cheek, “and you die.” His lips twitched into the faintest, cruelest smirk. “Or,” he added, voice a dark promise, “something worse happens.”

“We need a minute with him. Wait in the car.” Cassian looked between us, jaw tight, then nodded once and walked out through the glass doors. The four of us followed at a slower pace and stopped on the quiet stretch of pavement beside the building where the afternoon light fell without interruption. Dante studied me for a long moment and asked the only question that mattered. “Did you kill him?” I met his eyes without blinking and answered in the same even tone I used for every report. “Yes.” Lucien let out a short breath and shook his head. “Of course you did.”

Apparently, they found a gunshot wound to her stomach which means that definitely, her death is a murder case and one way or another, this misfortune was gonna involve me since I owned the place where she was found dead, I happened to be her boss and coincidentally, a fire started on the exact same night that her body is found. This had to be the worst day of my life and at this point, I can slowly feel myself losing my mind and at the same time, my sense of reasoning. Everything around me looked dark and felt gloomy. It's like I'm only going to keep experiencing the most horrible things in life and I highly doubt I deserve it since I've never done anything to hurt anyone, ever. "Babe, are y

I want you to come to our final union as my bride. 'Three more days, my love. Three more days until we're united forever.' 'Eternally yours, Damien' I felt sick. The casual way he talked about murder, about stealing my life, about this twisted version of love he'd convinced himself was real—it was beyond disturbing. "He's completely insane," I said quietly. "He's obsessed," Maya corrected. "And obsession can be more dangerous than insanity. Insane people are unpredictable. But obsessed people follow patterns, fixate on specific goals."

a pause, and I felt this moment through the bones of my dreaming self, felt the weight of it settling into something permanent, “—is obsession. That’s what this is. Obsession. And obsession dressed in the right words still kills people.” For a long moment James looked at the person I had been, and something moved through his expression that was genuine and painful and completely insufficient for what had been done. “I don’t mind,” he said finally, “if it’s an obsession.” The me-who-wasn’t-me went very still.

t and likely kill Johnny himself, not Layla, with her gossipy nature and sharp eyes, not the old men with their rambling stories and leering eyes that seemed to miss noth- ing. It was their secret, a dangerous, intoxicating !re that they fed in stolen mo- ments and couldn't seem to extinguish, no matter how much trouble it promised, no matter how many warnings they gave themselves. Tonight, it felt even more dangerous than usual, the air thick with unspoken longing, heavy with the weight of their shared secret. She could feel it thrum- ming in her veins, a restless energy that made her hands tremble slightly as she wiped down the bar,