Eyes Of The Void Novels & Stories

I back away instinctively, my spine hitting the door, my breath catching in my throat as he crowds into my space. His hands come up, bracketing my head, his palms flat against the wood. He leans in, his minty breath ghosting over my face, his eyes dark and dangerous. “What did I say about lying to me, Elysian?” he growls, his voice a low rumble that sets my blood on fire. My pulse kicks into overdrive, my skin prickling. I’m trapped, caught between his hard body and the unyielding door, my defenses crumbling under the heat of his gaze.

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.

It showed me everything that sought me in return. Shadows shifted in the void, countless and formless. They swarmed at the edges of my vision, pressing closer, whispering in a tongue older than the pack itself. The longer I stared, the more the darkness seemed to hunger for me, as though recognizing me as prey. I gritted my teeth, sweat dripping from my chin. "No... not now. Just show me her." But the Eye was alive, and it was not obedient. It widened further, pulling me deeper, dragging me into places my mind was not prepared to go. I saw fragments-broken images of graves splitting open, rivers that flowed in circles, and eyes, endless eyes, all staring at me with unbearable hunger.

Not on someone elses deadline. She glared at the canvas infront fo her her eyes were a bit blurry, a bit from being sleepy and a bit from the fact she couldn't remember when she had eaten last. She scooted her stool back a bit so if she did fall over she wouldn't land on the canvas infront of her. She ran a hand over her face a black smear spreading across her pale skin as the charcoal on her hand brushed down her face.

"If you don't, I'll have to kill Eric. He told me girls like this stuff." I managed a small chuckle as I dragged my eyes back to him, and that was a mistake. Shirtless Void was always my undoing: cold grey eyes, the faint scar on his lip, tattoos waking across his chest like inked wings. My breath forgot what to do for a second. "It's beautiful," I exhaled, letting my gaze drift over everything again. The whole space looked like a fairy-tale bedroom that had grown up properly. It was more than I could've asked for. I knew this palette wasn't his taste. Yet, he'd live in it for me.

Her golden and black eyes glimmered in the dim light as she whispered, “Stay calm, my little ones. Mama won’t let anything happen to you.” But even as she spoke, a shriek ripped through the valley like the tearing of the heavens themselves. A vortex of pitch-black energy erupted from the charred ground where Lyra had been sealed. The earth cracked violently, sending tremors through the wolves’ sanctuary. From the spiraling shadows emerged Lyra—no longer entirely herself. Her body was a silhouette of writhing void, eyes glowing like two bottomless pits. “IRIS!” Lyra’s voice echoed, warped, and dripping with malice. “You thought you could destroy me? I am reborn—not as flesh, but as the living

It's here. The clearing's surrounding shadows started to move and swirl before coming together to form a massive, hazy mass of darkness. The space. Its edges rippled like smoke, its shape constantly shifting. In the middle, two bright red eyes glowed and fixed me with a searing stare. "My chosen heir, you cannot avoid your fate," the Void stated in a spooky mix of growls and murmurs. My heart pounded in my chest as I froze. I trembled when I said, "I am not your heir."

Phil wanted to enter the cavern once more to hide and rest but Ferox suddenly stopped him and pointed Phil towards the place where the eye had fallen off. Phil looked in puzzlement, confused about what Ferox wanted to do. But after waiting for a minute, Phil saw the eye suddenly woke up, its pupils became erratic as it surveyed every crevice of the cavern, and only after seeing that no one was really there, did it bloat and suddenly explode into black goo.

"The gravity shroud is gone. The resonance shield is gone. We’re just a hunk of obsidian floating in a graveyard of white light." ​I pulled myself up from the central trunk of the Grove. My skin felt heavy, the liquid-iron having solidified into a dull, permanent graft that felt less like an upgrade and more like a scar. I looked through the shattered observation port. The "Eye of the Void" was no longer a grey throat; it was a clear window into a deep, star-studded sky. The stars weren't clinical points of light anymore—they were burning, flickering, and beautifully disorganized.

Curiosity could not. The city remained silent. Nobody moved. Nobody dared. Origin stood beside Nova now. Watching the eye carefully. Studying it. The same way a scientist might observe a dangerous experiment. Or perhaps the way a mother watches a wounded child. Nova wasn't sure which possibility was more disturbing. The Void spoke again. Its voice resonated through reality itself. "Nova." The sound of her name rippled across the universe. Galaxies trembled. Stars flickered. Dimensions shifted. The eye blinked once more.