Gaslight Novels & Stories

The silver flicker in Faith’s eyes vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving her alone in the dark room with the smell of bitter almonds and smoke. She stared at the green mist rising from the rug. Maya couldn't even wait twenty-four hours to try to kill her. It was messy, desperate, and exactly what Faith expected.

The penthouse I had designed with love—warm neutrals, custom lighting, spaces meant for us—had hosted his ex while I was gone. Rage, hot and purifying, replaced the numbness. I wanted to smash every carefully chosen vase, rip down the curtains I had sourced from Milan. Instead, I photographed the evidence: the scarf, the hairpin, the water bottle. Proof. Not for confrontation yet. For me. For the woman who needed to stop gaslighting herself into believing things would change.

She drew a deep, rattling breath and closed her eyes. Instantly, the air in the Grand Hall grew completely still. The roaring fire in the hearth shrank down to tiny, silent blue embers. Maeve’s hands began to glow, not with a bright light, but with a heavy, distorting shadow that looked like liquid midnight dripping from her fingertips. She pressed her palms flat onto the scrying pool, directly over Malakai’s screaming figure.

Adam lamented. “I’m just wondering if maybe we should get him inside and bolt the door. This might not be the safest place for him after all. She’s getting a might closer and some of those zombie spirits look like they’re coming back to life in a not too friendly way.” He studied the spirits who were once so animated but were now acting dazed and confused. A few of them were losing that dazed look. It was being replaced by one of intelligence and… Anger? Hate? He couldn’t tell.

I felt completely sick. Finally I was solid again. The darkness cleared. I immediately fell to my hands and knees and heaved up anything that may have been in my stomach. My vision swirled and I couldn't even keep my balance while I was bent over like this. I couldn't see past my dizziness, but I could hear Mila and Isabell walking around. "Remi, acquire the gems and incense," Isabell snapped. "This didn't work last time," Mila said.

Sage I get my things cleared off the table and sit back not daring to look back in his direction. I close my eyes trying to clear my head and jump when I feel heat radiating up my back. I look over at Jaxs- Jax and there is anger in his eyes the emotion swirling with the silver of his wolf. I instinctively pull away readjusting my shirt and jacket to cover up the distinct footprint left on my back. I shrink away from the wolf next to me.

Another day has come, sunlight seeps through his window as his gorgeous blue eyes squint. "Master your breakfast is ready," Fafnir said as he open up the curtains. The garden outside looks lush as ever, as fields of furze, bushes of different colored roses, and beautiful yellow dahlias make the sunny day jollier. Justine smiled and slowly sit up. His unsettled bangs are pushed back complimenting his sea rover-blue eyes and bristly eyebrows make Fafnir wonder why his good-looking master never gotten a fish in the sea. 'Oh yeah, the unsettling bangs' he said to himself

Finding the straight edge was soothing. The pressure behind her eyes tightened when the overhead lights flared. Someone—probably Brett—had turned up the lights without thinking. The white felt sharp, as if the room had sharpened its teeth. Celeste narrowed her eyes and crossed to the window. She adjusted the blinds by a careful inch. Grey daylight washed in, softening the edges and turning the glare into something flatter, more manageable. She felt the chill of the glass seep into her fingertips, a cool relief. Brett, realizing what he’d done, gave a sheepish grin and mouthed, "Sorry."

Occasionally, there were very tragic cries or mournful moans, creating an atmosphere reminiscent of scenes from a horror movie. Laura was small but brave, not feeling afraid, but also feeling a bit eerie. There were large patches of moss on the walls on both sides, emitting a poisonous gas. The gas was not light; Laura could tell it was a nerve gas, specifically designed to make people mentally sluggish. This gas mainly broke down people's willpower, letting them act recklessly while in a haze. Laura's eyes turned cold as she reached into her waist pouch and swallowed a red pill, then continued forward. Before long, she officially entered the prison, where eight tall, sharp-eyed men were gua