Eraserhead Stories Novels & Stories

This was normal life now. Later that afternoon, I lay on a wide silk cushion under a flowering tree, reading one of the community’s ancient erotic scrolls. The illustrations were filthy and beautiful — women tangled in endless pleasure. My fingers idly stroked my own clit as I read, lost in the words. A woman with golden hair and a thick strap-on appeared beside me. She didn’t speak. She simply spread my legs, positioned the fat head of her cock at my entrance, and pushed inside me in one smooth thrust.

However, soon, Brian started to worry and sent me a message. [What do we have to do for you to show yourself? Summer really can't hold on any longer. If you return and donate your bone marrow to Summer, your mother and I will look the other way. We won't ever pick on you anymore. We'll clear things up. We'll also give you your job back. How about that?] Sarah wrote me a message with tears in her eyes. [Sienna, I was wrong. I'm sorry. Please come back, will you?]

Carla and Travis watched from the sidelines, hands clasped. “We did it,” Carla said, her voice steady. Travis nodded. “And we’re just getting started.” The scars remained, but they were no longer wounds. Dave, Carla, and the other victims were healing, not just surviving but thriving, their journeys a testament to resilience, love, and the unyielding power of talent reclaimed. ----- This marks the end of the Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire. Compiled short story arcs now made their way to their ends.

“Too bad it won’t help you.” Before Erica could strike again, he twisted in his seat and grabbed her wrist, his grip like iron. She screamed, but he was stronger—far stronger than she’d anticipated. Free me! she cried, tears rolling down her cheeks. The driver didn’t answer. With a sudden, violent jerk he pulled her forward, striking her head against the door of the car. Pain exploded in Erica’s skull, hot and blinding. The world spun, her vision blurring as nausea rolled through her stomach.

I wrote this down in my notepad . I quickly got up and turned my head hearing voices behind me . " Did you think you could run , I love to play hide and seek . Would you like to see what I do to them after finding them ? I punish them just like I'm about to do ." He spat out . Please leave me I'm begging you just kill me , death would be better than a life like this . " SHUT UP " He shouted . "Guys lock her up ." He said to his subordinate ." No, please leave me , don't do this , I'm begging you , leave me ! " I shouted with all my might but to blocked ears . I'll never be strong please leave me. I shouted as I exited the room . How I wish I could have amnesia. That way I would be able to e

He was spacing out with a somber expression. Anderson quietly turned to Suit, waiting for the demon to state his question. “Never mind. I already have my answer. Besides, like you said. It doesn’t matter. She’s already burning in hell anyways. So, shall we begin the next story? I believe you’ve rested enough?” Anderson nodded his head, ignoring the bit about Miss. Agnes burning in hell. He did not exactly care. That story was over. The kids were fine and made something of themselves. No matter what, he would most likely choose the same path. He could not guarantee a different approach would work. Most important, the story was over, and he was moving on.

He smiled and said, “Once we enter the era, we are not souls. We have a form. Though we are much more powerful we can be taken down. The healers help us to stay alive till the motive of us being there is fulfilled. We enter the past or future to ensure that no soul has been wronged. We can’t save the humans but we can save the souls.” “But past cannot be altered or toyed with. Then how can you change it?”, I asked again. “Do you used to watch the stars at night?”, he asked. I nodded. “Do you know that when you look at the stars you are actually looking at the different eras that have passed? But the stories and life on these stars are still going on and we need to manage it properly. We don’

Chapter 20: The Memory Price ​The Eraser’s "clinic" wasn't a clinic at all. It was the basement of a ruined clock tower in the heart of the Grey Sector, where time seemed to move in circles. Thousands of gears—some gold, some rusted iron—ticked and ground against each other, creating a mechanical heartbeat that filled the air. There were no computers here, no glowing monitors like the ones Silas used.

She's nervous and excited, as many thoughts are floating into her mind right now. "What if Kei and the other members of MORSE are hanging out at the coffee shop right now? How would I react? What would I tell them? Oh my gosh, I hope I won't do anything stupid infront of them!" Cherish pulls the glass door open, but before she can make a step inside, she suddenly felt something that bumped unto her forehead... "Owwww!" she moaned in pain. "I'm terribly sorry!" Cherish heard a deep baritone voice, and it's clear that the person who bumped into her is starting to panic.