Esme Scythe Novels & Stories

Not wavering in the least. "Of coure you won't. But am sure that filthy mate of yours would, after all he had killed them himself." Esme soar venomously. "He murdered them alll—that bastard. I will kill you." She attacked once more, her speed increased out of the blue. Elsa made ten duplicates of the knife in her hand them aimed it all her. Esme whipped them away her momentum unstopping. Seeing this Elsa grew vines from the earth to restrict her. "You think you are the only one who can use spells?" Her opponent grinned venomously, melting the vines she has just created.

She was also fierce, especially when it comes to protecting those she cared about. Emily pulled out a scythe from her storage ring, the scythe was around 8 meters tall and it was made from clear crystal-like material that almost looked like spring water. A 4ft tall curved blade was attached to the rod of the scythe. It was a giant weapon that looked like it was created to be wielded by someone 14 ft tall.

“Because all of you have intentionally harmed Ciara, a Luna nominee for Silvercrest—” “By the moon goddess, she is not a saint!” Esme shrieked. “She is a fugitive! A Rogue! Criminal! I just put her back where she should be!” The insults… Scott couldn’t take it anymore. With a quick movement, he reached out and grabbed Esme by the neck. Esme had no time to scream. She could only make squeaking sounds like a squashed mouse. “Once again you say harsh things about Ciara, I will not let you live.” His teeth clenched tight, a low threatening growl echoing in his throat.

Wearing a blue dress, her delicate features resembled Thea’s. The moment she walked over to Sophie, she noticed the bizarrely-shaped scythe in front of Sophie. For some reason, she could feel a sense of familiarity with the scythe. Upon being reminded of the scythe within her body, her mind stirred, and a scythe materialized before her. Immediately, the it flew forward and blocked the bizarrely-shaped scythe that intended to deal Sophie the killing blow.

Esme mumbled something incomprehensible while her eyes darted back and forth erratically between the left and the right sides of her face. "What is it that you keep babbling about, you slutty wench! It would appear that you have not yet lost consciousness at this point. You should by this point have gotten used to both our presence and our magnitude, don't you think?" She was accosted by a leering voice that had a resonant quality and a slightly nasal quality. Her entire body went into a state of complete and utter suspension out of reflex. "It's you... And why are you here?" Esme's eyes grew wide as she questioned something. Her whole body began to tremble, and she let out a scream of agony

The Scythe was dormant. ​"We’re back at the start," I breathed. ​I turned toward the center of the room. My breath hitched. There, strapped to a titanium table, was a girl. She looked exactly like me, but younger. Her hair was longer, spilling over the edge of the cold metal. Her eyes were closed, her chest rising and falling in a shallow, drugged rhythm. ​"That’s me," I whispered, stepping toward the table. "The First Life. The day they found the Scythe in my blood."

“No!” Blood and carnage are seen. The brutality and mercilessness that Emie witness and immediately. Now seeing a figure with a scythe and a mad smile that in a way and two resembles her, but not. A bit shivering and wide eyes from what she just witnesses. Screams for help and begging for a life echo. Yet, the mad one swinging her scythe and with a twisted smile didn’t care and only said. “See you both in hell.” “Well then, unto the next scene.”

I wipe off blood from my nose and snap it back in place “Last chance, tell me where to find that bastard and you might be alive to rebuild” “Don't underestimate me just because you were able to land an attack on me” blood drips from her face and she slowly walks to me Death Scythe emerges from my shadow and floats beside me before I grip it firmly and run to her. I perform a front thrust, pushing Death Scythe to her face but Madame Abigail steps to the side and i turn it over making the blade curl behind her and then pull it back fast

Aethelred raised his scythe for a killing blow, his eyes two pits of ancient, unblinking light. "The ending is the same, Emma," he whispered. "The Wolf always returns to the dark." I didn't dodge. I Inverted. I let the Aether-Glass blade pass through my shoulder, the pain a white-hot agony that grounded me in the present. As the blade entered my flesh, I grabbed the hilt of his scythe with my bare hand. I didn't use my power to break it. I used my Scars. I flooded the Aether-Glass with the memory of the Cellar. I showed the ancient blade the feeling of the cold iron, the smell of the straw, and the heat of the Rebel’s first touch. I showed it the "Noise" of a life lived in the mess.

"You still think Skye's just some regular programmer?" Edward's tone was sharp with disbelief. "She's a top-tier hacker I managed to bring back through old connections! Letting her date you back then was me doing you a favor." Julian froze for several seconds, stunned speechless. When he finally found his voice again, it was full of incredulity. "Her?!" "Yes, her!" Edward barked, his patience gone. "Skye was the best match I could've arranged for you, and look what you've done! You went and got another woman pregnant—what a disgrace!"