Eye Of Death Novels & Stories

I locked eyes with Heretic, a mixture of defiance and determination burning within me. I watch as the lady whispered something into Heretic ear. " You should thank the lady when you get to life. She suggested two options for your death, " Heretic mockingly said (the guard's laugh) as he brought out his gun and drop it behind a purple liquid substance on the table. "Two options for your death, Mac Allister," he sneered, relishing in my helplessness. "Gun or poison?" His words sent shivers down my spine as I realized the gravity of the situation.

In the depths of his blue eyes, she saw a reflection of her own resolve, a shared courage forged in the fires of adversity. As Nora entered the courtroom, the atmosphere was tense, with hushed conversations and the occasional shuffle of papers. The room is adorned with wood-panelled walls, and the solemnity is accentuated by the judge's bench at the front. Nora sat on one side, her gaze steady, her mind drifted to the moment she had rushed in and seen Alexander. He was still holding the gun and Sebastian was on the floor groaning, Nora could almost feel the blood in her fingers like it just happened.

I had just stepped outside when I saw Olivia's twisted, contorted expression flash in time with the lightning. A split second later, the crimson numbers above her heart flared. "Olivia!" I ran straight toward her without a second thought. The rain beat down on my back as I went. As her death timer started to blare, her terrified face merged with the headlights of a speeding motorcycle cutting through the rain. Lucas and I watched as Olivia was thrown into the air like a ragdoll, followed by the screech of emergency brakes. Olivia hit the ground hard.

Her scream echoed through the room, shrill and panicked. "Aaah!" But as soon as she spotted someone behind me, her expression morphed in an instant. Her eyes grew red-rimmed, tears welling up like a tragic heroine. "Emily, I know you despise me, but my child… my child is a life too!" I felt a strong hand seize my wrist, and I turned to find Tristan staring at me, his gaze glacial. "That's enough," he said coldly. "Emily, I asked you to come here for a civil conversation. How could you attack Faye like this?"

“If you ask them about it, you will have to tell them about seeing me. If you do that, I swear they will pack everything up and move. Meaning you will not see me for a while.” As he finished speaking, I noticed his eyes had gone bright red and you didn't hear the owls anymore. “I’ve always trusted you more than my parents so why would I ask them, since you have already said they have been lying to me.” When I looked away from Marcus, I noticed there were about 7 pairs of vibrant colored eyes surrounding us. Slowly another set appeared but were purple with gold specks.

Face was covered in blood from wiping away the stains of hair that fell in my face and the sweat because it felt like a damn workout. In my eyes you are a pussy when you think you only need a fucking gun to protect yourself, thinking you are the men and no person in their right man would think to challenge , would fear you just at the mere sight of a gun but not me apparently. I’m not anyone, I’m Aaliyah, assassin of the Italian mafia known as Shadow of death.

10, 1981 Heavenly Cemetery A woman dressed in black stood at the grave, glancing at the tombstone. Esper Brinson's name was etched in memory of her. Most women believe that love is life, but Angela believes that love is a killer. A small 45-caliber pistol with an 8-round magazine was in her bag. She was carrying a photograph of a handsome man who was smiling at her. Leonardo Vera, you're going to die soon. She walked away, leaving the photo on top of the niche. Thoughts were running around in her head. We only have one life, and today, on my last day of freedom, I will kill a man. A man who believed that money could save him from death.

I felt his chest press against my back, his heart a frantic, heavy thud. "What is it?" I breathed. "Drone," he hissed. I looked up. High above the mist, a single red light was blinking—a slow, mechanical eye tracking a grid pattern over the cemetery. It was a Vesper eye. If we stepped out from under the stone overhang, the scrambler would hide our biometrics, but it wouldn't hide the physical ripple in the mist.

It’s the perfect voice from beyond the grave: gravelly and frosty,giving the impression that Death is a gangster of the literal underworld. The elevator operator makes the big mistake of doubting what he has just heard and looks over his shoulder for the first time. Like an owl, he swivels his head 180 degrees so I see that for a face he has nothing but two dots for eyes and one eternal frown, basically an upside-down smile, all slit into a smooth, round mass of flesh. The face is as heartrendingly crude as a stickman’s face traced in dirt by a preschooler. But once those inanimate peepers lock on Death, they bulge. No sight could be more apt for the expression “eye-popping”. From the taut s

Death looked toward the darkness. “For how long?” Noah answered: “Since the first thought.” Then a giant eye opened above them. Not like the Father’s. Not like the First Life’s. This eye was calm. Human. Almost familiar. Sophia stared at it. A voice spoke. “You have finally reached the end of the story.” Sophia raised her weapon. “Who are you?” The eye blinked. “The one reading it.” Everyone froze. The Observer continued: “And Sophia…” Its gaze fell upon her.