Dr Evil Laser Gif Novels & Stories

Dravena, laughing in my head so hard she sounded like she’d fallen off her throne. “This is hilarious,” she cackled. “He really wants head pats. Oh, Lilith, just give the poor wolf a pat before he actually kills your friends.” She wasn't joking. Because judging by the murderous glare Dervic was throwing at Theila and Lora, something told me he was absolutely serious. “Now,” Dervic hissed, his aura surging forth, ready to burst and crush both Theila and Lora where they knelt. “Prepare to die—”

The golden color in his pupils had splintered into jagged fragments like shattered glass floating inside pools of darkness. Something evil was staring back at her. “Get everyone out before.. AHH!” Draven suddenly roared in agony, clutching his head between massive clawed hands. His body convulsed violently as though something inside him was tearing itself free. “You should’ve just let the girl die, your majesty.” Elder Lysara’s cold voice sliced through the chaos. The old woman stepped forward slowly, disgust curling across her wrinkled face as her hateful eyes landed on Zara.

LOCATION: Remote neurological clinic Vairo-controlled blacksite TIME: 3:19 a.m. The woman across from Ember had eyes like frost. Steel-gray. Precise. Surgical. “Subject E1–Ash,” the doctor said. “Are you ready to see what he left behind?” Ember didn’t flinch. “Rafael’s dead.” “Dead men still whisper if they cut deep enough.” The doctor Dr. Lyra Dell was one of Rafael’s final recruits. Not loyal. Not sentimental. Paid to map minds and erase them.

"I look festive." "You look like someone who has already decided to do something catastrophically stupid and is doing their makeup to delay the conversation about it." I set down the eyeliner and turned to face him. Drake Valcoin, ancient vampire, only male Divine Warrior in recorded history, Council Elder, and the man who had literally pulled my soul back from the Neverplain, looked genuinely worried. Not the performative concern he used in Council chambers. The real kind, the kind that lived behind his eyes when he thought no one was paying close enough attention to catch it. I was always paying attention.

Dorian's drone slipped through the ventilation shaft. Chassis the size of a thumbnail. Six infrared eyes blinking red in the dark. Rotor whine suppressed to a whisper thinner than mosquito wings. It skated an arc along the ceiling. Hovered in a corner. The camera lens constricted, focused, locked on. The feed transmitted back. Selene held a syringe. Murky green venom still rolling in the barrel. The gash across Cain's chest tore from shoulder to sternum. Peeled-back flesh. Ghastly white bone beneath.

He was about to patch it up but stopped to stare at the blood dripping down my fingers, hunger suddenly pooling in his eyes again and my stomach turned to ice instantly. “Draven…” I choked out when he held my hands, bringing them closer to his lips, carefully studying my hands and inhaling deeply. “Don’t.” I pleaded but it was too late. Draven leaned closer as he licked off the blood from my fingers and exhaled deeply, as if he was satisfied with what he just tasted. I closed my eyes shut, ready to face what was coming next but to my surprise, I felt no more pain. “I’m not going to do anything, relax.” I heard him say and I opened my eyes to watch him patch up my cut now.

I snarled, pretending I did that on purpose. "Bull shitttttt" I snap at Victoria to make her shut up. His startled expression turned to a broad smirk. "I'm impressed. From over there you looked like a meek scared human." He laughed at his own joke, only making my want to hit him again intensify. "I'm Draven. Eli's best friend." He said with a toothy grin, making me scoff. "You wish," Eli growled, making Draven's eyes gleam brightly. "Old best friend." He extended his pale hand and I glared deeply at it.

One glance at Draven told me he was as tense as I felt, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might crack. "Pause it there." he said, his voice low but commanding. Alex, sitting at the computer, froze the footage, “What is it?" Draven leaned closer, his dark eyes narrowing as he pointed to the screen. "That guy’s hand. Look." I followed his gaze. At first, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but then I spotted it—a tattoo curling around the man’s wrist like a serpent. It was intricate, almost ritualistic in design.

He was joined by the physician from the main palace. As soon as they removed the last needles from her elbow, she opened her eyes slowly. Lydia weeped for joy as she gave her water to drink. Heavy footsteps were heard in the corridor. The door was pushed open at once and she saw, the Devil.

He opened it because I can hear some muffled voices. With Gideon there is a man with a white coat on that I am assuming a doctor and a nurse at his side. The doctor approached my bed and he presses a button that elevates my head in a 45-degree angle. "Hi, I am Dr. Smith" He introduced himself. "I am your surgeon. Thanks to your "Fiancé" and his impeccable patience and composition in an emergency situation. He made the right decision." If looks can kill the doctor is already dead. If Gideon's Eyes can emit laser beams Dr. Smith is already burnt.