Here Lies The Abyss Or Wicked Eyes First Novels & Stories

"Both of you looked amazing! Oh! I heard the bell ring, maybe Imman is already here with his father. Please stay here while I go and check it it's really them." "Dad, what a house this is! It is so big! They even have a garden inside and the interior is so pretty! The design could have been copied from other nations and the paintings, they are worth millions daddy! " Admiring the interior design, the beautiful garden, and the expensive paintings have kept Daniella busy. She saw how the arrangement of the decorations and patterns have brought life to the already beautiful house of the Agustins. One painting had taken her attention - the portrait of Cassandra and her child. The heiress was sit

His cold eyes remained, yet his lips slowly curved into a devilish smirk. Let's see if you can still say those words at our next meeting, Vestian. "Whoever fights with monster should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster and if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you," Celestin stated a quote out of the blue. "Remember my favorite quote I used to tell you, father?" "What the heck are you talking about, you futile child?"

And when two enormous silver eyes finally opened beneath the abyss— Even the First Alpha stepped backward.

Kellan asked, frustration creeping in. Rhydian’s pale eyes reflected the city lights. "We change the definition of abomination." Nyx was jolted awake by a nightmare. She’d been running through a silent forest. The trees had golden eyes. She got water in her dark kitchen. The silence in her head was still there. A gift. A curse. She looked in the hallway mirror. A tired woman with grey eyes stared back. Who are you? she thought. Why do you make monsters uncomfortable?

The image burned in my memory, as clear now as it was then. She had looked back once, her expression defiant yet broken. I had followed the pack warriors when they chased her, my curiosity getting the better of me. I had watched from the shadows, my heart pounding with anticipation as they cornered her. When she jumped, I didn’t move to stop her. I didn’t call out. No one could survive the Silver Abyss. Its waters were pure torment, a swirling mass of molten silver and ancient, deadly magic. Avery was as good as dead the moment she made the leap. I had seen it with my own eyes.

He looked at me with black dust that filled his eyes. However, fire cracks were looming through obsidian crevices around his eyes as if they were fighting over for control with black magic that possessed him. It looked like there was some internal battle happening within him as he roared in a surreal scream which sounded like a clamour calling for murder. He shrilled “Ramaalen” and “Sanguineabyss” before he flumped on the floor and dissipated in the gust of black whirlpool.

The murk coalesced into the form of a man — sharp- jawed, chiseled, eyes like indurating oil painting. Morcant, the Abyss King. This was his area of silence. He had not moved in centuries. He was the dark that lived beneath the megacity’s skin. also, without warning, his eyes snapped open. He looked toward the faint light far above at the precipice’s edge. A earthquake, ancient and intimidating, stirred in his casket. He caught a scent drifting down from the heights. A specific, burning aroma of stolen fire and sacrificial blood.

“Help me. Just a little longer.” No answer came. Black spots danced across my vision. The pain crested until I could not draw air at all. My body seized. Darkness swallowed me whole. When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer in the study. Silver threads drifted through endless black. The Abyss. I remembered it now. The cold. The weight. The voices that had pulled me back. I pushed to my feet on the rippling dark ground. “Is anyone there?” I called. My voice echoed strangely, twisted by the void. “Show yourself!”

“I came down to get water when I returned. It seemed like no one was at home. The lights in the kitchen were off. I saw glowing red eyes in the darkness and hairy scaly hands grabbed me.” Malcolm's brow was now furrowed. “What did the creature look like?” I placed my hand on my chin as if in deep thought. “I don't know.” I finally admitted. “Everywhere was dark.” “That's strange,” Malcolm responded while narrowing his eyes as he looked downward. He returned his gaze to me. “I don't think any of what you saw is true,” I suspected he would say something like that. “I knew what I saw.” I opposed it vehemently.

“The journal has more secrets. The blood only revealed the first layer. There are other textures, other papers I haven’t been able to… activate.” His hand came down on my shoulder. Not a caress. A claim. His fingers pressed into my flesh, a deliberate, possessive weight. “Then find the next layer.” The command was absolute. But beneath the iron control, I heard it—a thread of something new. Not just hunger for the legacy. Hunger for this. For my mind working, for the secrets I pulled from the darkness. “I will need to try different things,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “The blood opened one door. Perhaps other… reagents… will open others.”