Heart Of Darkness Characterization の小説・ストーリー

Atticus says, and Adeline nods. She looks at Karina once before walking off, and the look makes me shiver again. The girl has no emotion. None. Her eyes could freeze a volcano. "Explain what, Atticus," Karina whispers as Adeline disappears, and the massive male lifts his arms. "Look at me, Karina. Do you want this as your mate? Do you want the son of Rupert Kincaid as your mate? I am a monster, both on the inside and the outside. I performed the final shift due to blinding rage. Not because I am some perfect soul. I have done horrendous things! Things you could never fathom. You are made up of pure light Karina. I am nothing but darkness. If you were to stay close to me for too long, my dark

I chalked it up to the fact that these memories were important, and refused to contemplate it further. As soon as the Game Master's shoulders left the water, he was enveloped in darkness. It covered almost every inch of his creamy skin, and even covered the blur that marred his face. He radiated it from every pore, from every smooth surface of skin I couldn't make out. It filled the sky in plumes of onyx, freckled with millions of dazzling stars. The darkness that clung to him, it was different from Nadia's. Nadia's darkness was evil; choosing the White Bull, the incarnation of everything vile and brutal in this world, it left a stain on her soul that would never come clean.

Such souls had no place in my dark utopia. Meanwhile, Zeve’s soul print was an interesting mix of light, darkness, and grey. She had it all in herself. Zahir’s soul print was pitch black, the darkest shade of black, with no hope, happiness, or emotions. His soul was no less than a black hole. It could eat up all the light in this world and still be starving. Yet he pretended to be on the brighter side. Well, what else could we expect from a person who was born with forbidden knowledge?

The all-rounder, prideful, arrogant, cold son of the family. It intrigued him why humans tend to be drawn more to the light than the darkness. When it was the lights that judged them. And in the embrace of the darkness, he felt contempt. Wandering from place to place, yet couldn’t find the sign of peace. Like chaos was meant to be with him. Or was the chaos he was trying to escape within him? His solitude never bothered him, he was satisfied with whatever he had. Why did he want her? why was it only she had the power to make him go insane?

His heart was frozen, filled with tar. He was a Beast. And nothing would change him. He was a skilled manipulator. One that made you doubt yourself. More than physical torture, he aimed for mental one. A part of me was worried. Even scared for this man with warm eyes. He looked like he hadn’t faced the darkness of this world. Like he wasn’t tainted with the filth I was sinking deep in. For some reason, I wanted to keep it that way. ***

That was the problem. Hector didn’t understand love because he had never felt it. People to him weren’t partners, they weren’t family. They were assets—expendable, replaceable, nothing more than tools to sharpen his hunger. I’d done bad things, yes. I wasn’t innocent. But at least I knew where my sins ended. Hector’s? His had no bottom. His brand of evil was pure, methodical, without limits. And for the first time, staring into the shadows he cast, I realized what kind of monster I was truly up against.

He had known them from childhood that they are greedy and can satisfy their desire anyhow even if it will cost a nation dieing. They are always surrounded with black and evil aura, their aura blazed with hellfire, as if the darkness inside their soul could not be contained any longer and used to leak out without constraint. He stood by the window with their fists clenched into tight balls. He try to hid his devastated expression and He knows He is in his darkest state.

He walked to the window and stood with one elbow propped on the sill I always thought that dons and devils are alike, they are ruthless, brutal and heartless,they don’t have a kind side to their personality, however, It surprised me to know that there are people like you too who are a part of this whole system,” “What do you mean by people like me?,” he swirled the liquid in his glass, sliding one hand in his pocket, his tone playful Samaira took another sip of wine, the delicate tip of her tongue licking her soft lips , unaware that the simple act stirred something into the man’s heart. He felt a strong urge of desire rise within him, he forced himself to look away from her “I mean.. Look a

The shape of a man's heart is determined by things which cannot make a scratch on the softest soil. Who can fully elaborate this point and jaunta for us if not the wantaway, the fugitive, conditional vagabond and a hopeless hopeful, Tom. The thoughts that comes with his quotidian yawn to the sun in a very close imitation of the bedeviled wolf howling his heart beats to the stars. And yet a human he was, capable of thought, irrespective of the long nails gracing his fingers and their deep yellow coloring. His yawn in itself is not entirely pure as sweet but belligerent aromas and fragrance sift from them to annoy the sun. Might have been the reason the sun has been stowing away from him in su

His skin had lost some of its lustre from the centuries confined in the darkness, away from the worshipful rays of the sun. Dislike was not a strong enough word, making him feel pallid and weak. However, in this world it seemed a safer colour to be. He had heard the hatred from all sides, someone was too dark, someone too white. Those who came in-between seemed to fare the worst. And whilst he embodied the form of a grand hunting dog, he was no mangy cur. "Just...behave yourself," he whispered, turning back to his books, muttering to himself. "Curse those shells for being so damned slow."