Flor Del Infierno Novels & Stories

The underground gambling den smelled of cigar smoke and old money, humming with the sound of shuffled cards, clinking chips, and muffled curses. Viviana descended the concrete steps without hesitation, heels clicking against the cold floor. She was dressed in sleek black leather pants that hugged her curves like a second skin, paired with a crimson satin blouse tucked in just right, its buttons teasingly open near her collarbone. Her dark hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, green eyes sharp, confident, and hungry.

She tore free from Dixal’s hold and slapped Diaz across the face, her palm ringing through the room. “You monster! You killed my father and pretended to befriend my mother! You planted drugs in our home! You tracked my every move through your men until Mama was convinced my life was in danger—and then you manipulated her into surrendering to your will!” Her fists pounded against his chest as tears blurred her vision. “You heartless devil!” Diaz stood still, letting her strike him. “Flor, you really don’t understand. The enemies I face aren’t ordinary men. They twist everything. I didn’t plant those drugs. I was as shocked as anyone.”

While hesitating, León de Fuego took her hand and flew towards the Montaña de Flores mountain. They stopped at the foot of the mountain, in front of a lily flower. “Is this flower beautiful?” He picked the flower and put it in her hand. "I do not know." She answered vaguely. Of course, she wouldn't say that there was a time when, in search of a lily in bloom, she crossed a hundred mountains and a hundred rivers. Just because when she was still a statue, León de Fuego once asked her: “Do you find lily beautiful?” The lily blooms on the tree, when the wind blows, the brilliant lily flutters in the wind, what a strange beauty that evokes many emotions that make even the gods touched. “This flow

I kept it precise the way I kept most things precise, because precision was a tool and imprecision was a liability and I had not survived nineteen days in a northern corridor tracking vampire reconnaissance by being vague about who I was and what I was doing there. I was Silver Dawn. Field investigator. Four years of clean work and a handler who trusted me because I had given him reasons to. I had a theory about Highcliff Hold. And I was about to test it.

And when she opened her eyes and saw that exact woman by her side she whispered unintentionally “La… Candida” A woman that holds the whining, cries for justice, marches for victims, stands in face of the tyrant, and encourages the fighters for freedom. A woman that is like a majestic white flower standing alone facing the dark winds of the north. A woman pure and strong, that touches evil but never gets polluted. A woman called Flora, Flora La Candida, which means the pure flower.

Then he shouted, “Sir!” Our boss glared at our new employee who was running towards us. Damiel showed the flower he’s holding. It is a beautiful pink flower that you can only see in the mountains. “Guys, look at this, I found a flower,” Damiel shared. “What is this flower’s name again?” “Lilium cobra,” I said. “Ahhh, right, Lilium Cobra. It is so rare to find this nowadays.” Real reason why we hike together just like this is for us to have a chance to know each other more.

Finally, I turn to the North, “Istanu, storm winds which split open the land, I summon thee! IM -SI-SA!” I take in a breath and pray that my goddess hears me, “Mummu Tiamat Muallidat Gimrisun. Ummu Ubur Patlqat Kalama. Hear Thy Names. Thalatth-Omoroca-Tauthe-Mummu Tiamat

Serena suddenly zoomed in on the glass cabinet behind my workstation several times. That allowed us to see Celia sneaking up behind my workstation. She poured a bottle of unclear fluid into my beaker when I wasn't looking, and it happened in less than a few seconds. I clenched my fists at once, the fire in my chest spreading. "Celia!" Dad pointed at Celia as he questioned, "What do you have to say for yourself?" Celia paled, dropping to the ground and crying, "It has to be a misunderstanding—no! It was Serena! She's the one who forged this footage and made it seem that way! Am I right, Serena?"

Meanwhile, in another part of town, Mel was scrolling through her social media feed when a picture of Xavier and Davina on a romantic date caught her eye. They were sharing a candlelit dinner at a charming restaurant, smiles lighting up their faces. The caption read, "Date night with my love ❤️." Mel's anger flared instantly, but beneath that anger was a deep sense of determination. She had once been Xavier's girlfriend, and their breakup had left wounds that had never fully healed. Seeing Xavier with Davina, seemingly in love, ignited a fiery ambition in Mel.

she said while pausing her fingers. "This flower bouquet is for Ms. Tanvi Siara Agarwal, and that's you, Miss!" She frowned, "That's me," Moved her head down, scratched her head with a squint, "I don't know who sent this." "Let me ask them." She decided and glanced upwards, but they weren't present. "What the fuck is this?" Shrugged her hands in annoyance, she observed the bouquet with bright red roses. "Wow! It's been many days since I saw red roses." She quoted as her eyes shone, carefully inhaled the fresh smell of them, and chuckled.