Haunting Eyes Novels & Stories

odd. There was a certain glaze of sadness, a far-away kind of stare in her eyes that somehow reminded Alastor of prisoners of war from historical documentaries he used to watch with Alistair when they were in junior high. His mate looked like she was... haunted. Was it because she is a goddess of the underworld?

It can’t help but make me wonder who he is, as for some reason he looks so familiar. The more I stare, the more interesting it seems. Time is so talented, it’s as if he is actually looking at me. Wait. He is… Lashing out, I push at the canvas, the entire easel and painting coming crashing to the ground. The sound is horrific, but I’m more concerned by the imprint of those lavender eyes within my head. I’m cursed, they are going to be trapped within my head forever, and I’ll be eternally haunted by some immortals eyes.

I open my eyes but I'm no longer in the office. I see flashes of an old house... Basement... And...And... A girl.... Blood... there's blood on her.... Eyes... Black eyes are watching me while white fangs sink into her neck. I scream in horror. Please stop!!! The scene changes again. I'm on my back. The black eyed man is saying something then he disappears... A wave of fire engulfs my body... I scream in agony as loud as my lungs will allow. Seb Pov

Its shoulders alone must stand five feet high, its head nearly brushing the ceiling as it fully enters the room. But it's the eyes that lock me in place. Green. Not emerald. Not forest. *Toxic*. Glowing. Boiling. Eyes that speak of death, torment, and worlds I've never seen. Intelligence burns within them—a malevolent awareness that sees me, knows me, has hunted me across distances I can't comprehend. "Serena!" Cassidy screams, her voice breaking through my paralysis. "Run!" It doesn't hesitate. Doesn't growl again.

"If you don't want me to say it, then don't proceed with the donation." "Alright," I answered. Jordan's expression soured. "Hazel, what the hell do you mean?" I smiled weakly. "I still want to behold the world with my eyes. Can't I do that?" Pursing his lips, Jordan stared at me with a gaze as deep as the abyss. "Say that again." "I don't want to give her my eyes." Without a moment of hesitation, Jordan slapped me harshly.

But the moment she turned her back on me, I felt it again-Derick's eyes, persistent, boring deep into me as though he was looking right through me. I bit the inside of my cheek, the feeling too much to bear. I had no idea why it was being so.exposing. So exposed. His presence was overpowering, filling the room in such a way that made me want to run and hide. But something made me glance up. The instant his eyes met mine, I caught my breath. The darkness of his eyes appeared to penetrate me and I braced myself. I could not look away, though every fiber of me cried out to do so.

it sneers when he failed to snap at it right away, voice soft and so mocking as his blood drips drip, drip, drip down from one of his eyes and then down to his chin, “…I would very much like to see how many times they can grow back.” “You have lovely eyes, you know,” the demon tells him again for what seemed to be the nth time as he was forced to kneel in front of its throne, its voice thoughtful, sounding almost genuine for once, “…the color of vibrant forests.” It holds one of his eyeballs, so close to its face. And much to his horror, it opens it mouth– * * * * * Hans can still feel its teeth plucking his eye out. (…as though it was something meant to be devoured)

She was dying. Cynthia? Eleanor asked, leaning forward, her eyes narrowing as she saw the sudden terror in her host's expression. What is wrong with you? Do you recognize her? Cynthia did not answer. She could not speak. She could only stare at those cold, beautiful, and completely restored features on the screen, her mind locked onto the piercing, lethal intensity of those unforgettable eyes—the exact same eyes that had watched her from the shadows of the basement for twelve months, now burning with the absolute promise of her total destruction.

Those eyes. Where have I seen those eyes before?

He stepped out. Tall. Not just tall—broad in that way that made the space around him feel smaller. Dark hair, slightly messy like he’d run his hand through it one too many times. Sharp jaw. Black hoodie, sleeves pushed up to reveal forearms corded with muscle. But it was his eyes that stopped her cold.