Romans & histoires Deathbringer And Glory

There was no deafening explosion, only the eerie silence of matter disintegrating. In the white light, Naomi's body and the tower turned to dust. [Time remaining: Three minutes.] "Clifford, are you ready to return?" the system asked. I watched the three people who had once been the closest to me meet the most horrific ends imaginable. "Let's go," I said quietly to the system. I took one last look at my headstone and whispered, "Goodbye, Dad, Mom, and Naomi. So long, Clifford Sullivan." I'd never forgive them, and we'd never meet again.

As the gala continued in full bloom, Elara’s eyes never left the actress. Arabella. She looked as dazzling as ever, a vision in shimmering silver. It broke Elara’s heart to remember how, in her past life, it had taken just one cruel night to ruin her. A swan dragged through the mud until she couldn't breathe. Humans were cruel, but fame was a predator that didn't stop until it reached the bone. Unbeknownst to Elara, a different kind of predator watched her from across the room.

The more the man struggled, the stronger she felt. Kill him! “Help!” The man managed to blurt out before Annabel shut his breath. He could only gasp for air now. He raped the little girl! Her strength came from her hate; her hatred for what the priest had done to her, what her body had become; her hatred for the priest and every other person like him in the world. Soon, the struggling stopped. The man fell to the floor, dead. When Annabel opened her eyes, they were glowing, the same eerie light that she had seen in the sculpture’s eyes.

My voice broke with panic, my hands scrambling for my blade. “Quick, Eren, torches—now!” Aziz barked. Flint scratched. A torch flared, then another. Uncle Eren shoved one into a wall sconce, the flames casting long, jittering shadows. Then it happened. Our hellblades began to glow. A red pulse, faint at first, then stronger, like a heartbeat shared between them all. The glow shimmered across the stone, reflecting in our eyes. My throat tightened. “Why is it glowing already, I don’t see anything?”

Walking in that dark night, where only silence was all that could surround them, the smiles on their faces after having ended the day that way in that world in which Salomé and Maximilian had been reborn as one. Not one more than others, simply equal. Everything seemed to be going perfectly that night, there was nothing that could bother them. Not even that path that seemed endless made their feet tired, it was as if in one way or another they were enjoying that night after so much. Even knowing that in their hearts there could be nothing but pain, more than that thirst for revenge, they could not find love that way.

"And she worships goddess Kali, do you know she is also known as goddess of death... Isn't it amazing?" Yang smiled. "Good to know that you pay attention to her... I am relieved now... Durga deserves this attention!.. see you later!" He left the room with a smile. Damon smirked at himself. "Not Durga, Yang... Mira!" His phone rang and he saw Rafael's name on it. Damon answered it. "How is it going?" Rafael asked. "Just the way I want!" Damon smiled. "I am proud of you, Damon... You are doing a big thing to get the deal..."

He is so happy because he will finally be able to escape this chaotic world and they will be able to fulfill the simple dream of Akira and his as a normal couple. When he arrived at the condo, he immediately took a shower first to be able to clean and to make sure if he hadn't been scratched before. As the water flows through his body you can see the blood of his victims clinging to him gradually flowing into the sink. Azrael’s body is full of scars from his wounds from his previous missions and on his back is a large tattoo— “Deus Mortis” which in Latin means “God of death” is what the organization called him because of the number of impossible missions he has accomplished.

She shouted, lifting her glaive with both hands; the blade burned with white flames, and the halo of light around her glowed like the sun. “In the name of the god, Sol, and the goddess, Selene, I sentence you to death.” “Die!” Draven roared, forming a large ball of red energy in his palms and shooting it to her. She disappeared in a second, and in the next, she was in his face, wearing a proud smile. “Goodbye, Draven. You’re dream of godhood ends here and now.” She swung her glaive, and the blade ran through his neck.

He said, "You and Adeline are both our daughters. You've always been the same in our eyes." I thought death would numb me and that I would never feel anything again, but when I saw them once again choose to believe her, pain ripped through my chest like it never had before. All these years, they had trusted every word out of her mouth and never once came to ask me the truth. Even after my death, they still chose to believe her. The pain was unbearable. That kind of soul-tearing pain was a thousand times worse than death. My funeral was scheduled three days later. That day, I returned home with my parents in spirit form. I hadn't been back since Clara went missing. I never thought my first ti

The glory of an angel was nothing a mortal could see. I stood in the middle of the angel's clash, their songs warring in an alchemy that pitted darkness against light. Samael's voice was haunting, like the recesses of a thousand chapels. It was silken sheets, cold fall nights, a graveyard slicked with rain. Michael's was the fury of thunder, the ferality of a storm. Grand, terrible, blinding. I was deaf and blind between them, eternity all I could see.