Gojo Death Stare Novels & Stories

Then he lowers himself into the chair opposite, and the leather creaks under his weight, and the lamp throws his shadow long across the wall behind him. I look at the photograph. A young man stands in front of the masseria's stone courtyard, squinting into the sun. He is maybe twenty-two, twenty-three, with dark hair that falls across his forehead and a smile that does something complicated to his face. The smile is there, the mouth is doing what mouths do when they smile, but the eyes are not in it. They are Domenico's eyes, the same permanent low-grade grief stamped into a younger face, and seeing it there makes something tighten in my chest. "My brother," Domenico says. "Lorenzo."

Unlike Lucy, she stared straight at the General locking eyes. ‘Well surely you will get what I mean soon,’ he raised his eyebrows at her as they started a stare down. Unless it was family and friends, everyone had always quivered in fear after holding eye contact for more than a few seconds with Dante. But here he was, enjoying a stare down with Jo who had the most delicate frame, yet something about her was so strong and mesmerising. Her spirit? Her energy? He couldn’t tell but he enjoyed it, a lot. Lucy nudged Jo with her elbows finally making them break eye contact. “Shall we start?’

Line after line of text streamed across my vision. My jaw dropped. Thinking my eyes were deceiving me, I rubbed them hard several times. The comments stayed right where they were, stubbornly refusing to vanish. More warnings continued to flood in. "It's over! Jess is almost home! She's walking straight into the trap!" "Jess, your husband is going to find an excuse to leave you alone with Marianne so he can frame you! Whatever you do, don't go inside!" "At exactly 7:10 pm, Marianne will fall to her death. They're setting you up to shoulder the blame for her murder."

She became a whore because Pablo have always chased her around, especially since her parents couldn't pay the debt they owe him. "I see you are awake, (He said, getting up from the floor) I will leave his body here with you, I will torture you here, if you die, I will torture you, till you awake, but before that, I want him to watch me fuck the woman he would have killed me for". He said, then he made Escober sit on the stool, he raised his upper lid, so he opens his eyes. Joan stared at him, and she could have sworn that he was looking at her, if she didn't know, he was already dead.

But as I looked around the room, none of them looked at me with fear their eyes all lit up with hope and gratitude. My gaze drifted to a young man lying on a stretcher, his eyes meeting mine with an expression of gratitude, not fear. Slowly, I made my way over to him. “Thank you, Luna of Death,” he whispered, his voice a soft melody over the quiet murmur in the hall. “For this gift—I will remember you even in the afterlife and be forever in your debt.”

The one that had said you’ve finally found me. The lead figure’s head tilted, sharp and birdlike, and the sockets—those empty, endless pits—seemed to narrow. Elora didn’t know how she could tell, but it was studying her. Then, without warning, the dead surged forward. Joel moved faster than she thought possible. His sword flashed in a wide, vicious arc, cutting through the first attacker’s arm at the elbow. The limb fell into the leaves with no more ceremony than a dropped stick. The thing didn’t even flinch—it simply reached for him with its other arm.

“God, this guy is disgusting- oh, great. There's the BLT. All over the cushions...” The door of doom opened as I emptied the contents of my gut. The Grim Reaper sprang from the portal, a horrific phantasm with blood-red eyes. He was nothing but shadow and bone, cobbled of skeletal skin. He put the Watcher in a death-lock and jerked his head viciously. Samael drove his foot into Jakkon's crotch and wrenched backwards, splitting his abdomen in half. Noor's head fell to the ground.

I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but Joses Vhalla died from his injuries after defending the veil-stones. The female's beautiful face crumpled, shaking her head as though in denial, her bottom lip trembling. "No." She whispered, "No..." The sound almost broke Sephora's heart, as the female sank to her knees and wept. Sephora glanced to her mate, who looked nothing less than devastated, as he watched the dark haired female helplessly crying before them. Sephora turned back to the female and knelt down, cradling the broken soul in her arms, and allowing the female to hug her tightly.

He asked. "What?" I looked around. I had not heard anything, but we were still in the territory, so it could have been someone nearby. We froze for a few more seconds, then he said, "It is probably nothing. Let's go." I turned around to continue our journey but my heart jumped to my mouth and my breath hitched in my chest as I saw Joram step out into our path. He was partially shifted, his eyes were glaring red and his fangs were extended, but he was not looking at me. His death stare was pinned on Esteavo.

The father of the bastard who had used my wife’s blood as his weapon. Mateo, Sofia, and Nitta stood around him, guns drawn, aimed straight at his chest. A circle of steel and hostility, a reflection of the atmosphere pressing down on the room. He saw me—his nephew—standing before him, but not the boy he had once manipulated. That version of me had died long ago. "You won’t walk away from this," Daiki rasped, a bitter laugh curling at the edges of his mouth, though it trembled under the weight of his own fear. "And Gojou... Gojou will destroy you."