Eye Of The Soul Novels & Stories

He lacked inner peace. He inhaled the vinous smoke as the corner of his lips twitched in a sad smile. His eyes deceived him being moist and a lone tear slipped down his face on the sand. The sand sucked the water as soon as it fell on it, and he wondered if his pain disappeared in thin air like that. He breathed out a puff of smoke through his nose and mouth. Looking up at the sky with the sad smile plastered on his face he spoke up, "Why so hatred for me, ya Rab?"

Hearing your thoughts and seeing what you can see… What's the difference? I did not reply. I merely showed her what the difference was. In front of Snowie's stunned gaze, I thrust my finger into my right eye and forcibly plucked my eyeball out. Of course, there would not be blood or gore. After all, my right eye was a prosthetic.

He looked at his hands, which were slowly turning into glass. ​“You’ve corrupted the Archive,” he whispered, his voice finally sounding human again—full of a terrifying, ancient grief. “You’ve given the machine a 'Soul.' Do you have any idea how much that’s going to Hurt?” ​The Seventh Peak let out a final, resonant groan. The "Primal Eye" in the sky didn't close—it changed. The silver iris turned a deep, deep violet. The "Harvest" was over. The "Evolution" had begun.

The more she thought about her foiled plans, the angrier she became, resulting in her accidentally dropping the baby out of rage. "This is your fault! If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have gotten to this point in life! Die!" A loud thud sounded. Blood was splattered all over Marcus' pale face. As Sylvia cackled at the top of her lungs while walking out of the ward, a teardrop slid down Marcus' cheek from his closed eyes. Unfortunately, those eyes would never open ever again.

Not like this, at least! I hated them for spinning lies around me, for stealing my name and my work. If I had a chance at life again, I would never let them get away with it. I would make them pay. Suddenly, a beam of light broke through. I realized the restraints binding me had been undone. I closed my eyes, letting the sunlight wash over me, that faint warmth giving me a thread of comfort. When I opened them again, a familiar face filled my vision. His eyes widened, and I could see a red tint gradually climbing into them. "Why are you here, Cassidy?"

Their eyes gleam a vicious, evil red that shows the true depths of their soullessness. All at once, they charge at Gamma Everly.

So with a steadying breath, I lift my chin and meet that soulless, oily stare directly. "I accept." Behind those shadowed pits, the entity's slitted eyes flare a baleful, eldritch blue in seeming delight. And in that moment, I have a terrible premonition I may have just signed my everlasting soul away to the abyss...

"Hecate, eich morwynol yw yma. Clywed fy gweddi. Gadewch y gwirodydd o dwr, aer, tân ac ddaear gwaith gwda mi.. Illygaid yn y drws i y enaid. Gadewch hi golwg fod hadfer. Gadewch hi enaid gwenu trwy hi galon ac.Gadewch hi galon gwenu trwy hi Illygaid. Gadewch hi proffwydoliaeth fod cyflawni" (Hecate, your maiden is here. Hear my prayer. Let the spirits of water, air, fire and earth work with me. Eyes are the door to the soul. Let her eyesight be restored. Let her soul smile through her heart and let her heart smile through her eyes. Let the prophecy be fulfilled). The crystals glow as Briseis scoops the now warm liquid with a goblet and pours some into Anna's eyes. Ten seconds, nothing happe

“Pooh! Uneducated!” Grand Emperor Rowan looked scornful. “The strongest eye in the realm of Buddhism is the Eye of Samsara. It can see the past, future, past life, present life, sincerity, and falsehood. It can crush malevolence, eliminate evil spirits and kill faraway people.” “Is it so powerful? It’s fake, isn’t it? It can even see the past and present lives? Where is this amazing eye?” “My eye.”

, a soft, glowing drizzle that carried the songs, the stories, and the secret dreams of the ancestors back to the people in the streets. ​"My great-grandmother thought she could bottle the soul of the world and sell it back to us," Julian Sallow said, standing at the window. He watched as a massive obsidian-vine coiled around the moon’s primary transmitter, turning the weapon into a giant, flowering branch. "She forgot that a soul is like a seed. The harder you squeeze it, the deeper the roots go when it finally breaks." ​The Final Signature ​Suddenly, a single, small screen on the bridge flickered to life. It wasn't the Grand Auditor. It was a simple, text-based terminal.