Hex Hall Series 소설 & 이야기

“Millie, that will all be up to Mom—if we manage to get out of this place alive, with all our faculties intact. The night may still be young, but the electrical power remains off.” Phillip Mogollon returned to be sure the corridor had dried. He opened the vampire coffin enclosure, noted the current count of coffins, rolled the door down again, locked it, and departed. All the time he whistled a jaunty tune, apparently oblivious as to the presence of the two Asplundh girls, even though their door was wide open and they were sitting inside their entrance watching what he did. The chilly draft continued, and the girls watched their candles grow smaller. The guttering flames gave variegated ligh

The hallway is so long and the penthouse so huge that I don't know where to turn to get myself into the living room, or the kitchen. Looking towards my left and right, I decide to go right, fulfilling a part of me that thinks everything has gone left since the night Saint stumbled into my life. My feet take me down the hallway, bathed in the morning light coming in through the tall windows. I see a door slightly open on the left. My curiosity gets the better of me as I take a peek.

“Then say your name aloud, stating you are a Baudelaire witch and you were sent by me.” “A secret passage will open up, and you will pass through it, but do not look straight. Go in with your back because you cannot view the council of witches without permission. You might be stronger than them, but you need permission.” When Halle was done speaking, Hazel still stared at her with fear in her heart. It was all too much, and she was still trying to process the fact that Halle was dead.

Hollis**** The mansion’s corridors were a labyrinth of decay, reeking of mildew and forgotten secrets. Each step echoed like a distant scream, and the oppressive silence wrapped around us like a predator waiting to strike. The air was thick, each breath heavy with the stench of rot, and every creak of the floorboards sent a jolt of adrenaline through my veins. I kept my grip firm on Hailey’s hand, her warmth grounding me even as icy dread crept further into my soul.

Most of the assassins in my graduating class have died already, and I had attributed most of their deaths to a lack of intuition. “Room 502 is this way.” Caleb starts to move left. He hasn’t picked up on anything unusual. “Hush,” I say, listening with my lycanthrope hearing. Room 502 might be left, but I hear the silence that way. To the right, however, I can hear heavy male voices. I ignore Caleb’s whispered protests and start my descent down the hallway. Caleb follows me with his gun drawn like he’s finally catching on.

" Malakai smirked when he thought of the answer. "We're ghosts baby." Malakai responded and Eden wanted to laugh, but she was so confused at the same time. "Huh? The fuck do you mean?" Eden said and looked up to see a mischievous glint in her boyfriend's eyes. "I have someone, a hacker, his name is Rhys. He'd remove everyone's DNA, their information and everything there is about them off the systems of the world. When you joined the agency, he did the same. In short, we don't exist little one." Malakai said and Eden's eyes widened. She never knew the extent to which Malakai could go.

“And what about the other entities we have here? I wouldn’t wanna have a ghost war right before Halloween.” “That I couldn’t tell,” Amy replied. “But I have the feeling he won’t mess with anybody unless they try to mess with him, be it living or nonliving.” “With his size, I don’t think many would dare,” said Isaac. We were already approaching the dark building of Tinicum Hall when Brett and Amy stopped on a dime, signaling us to do the same. “What? What d’you guys see?” asked Brandon, looking ahead like them. “There’s a shadow at the entrance,” said Brett. “And it seems to be talking with— what’s the name again?”

Suddenly, the room tilts. The air in the workshop vanishes, replaced by the metallic tang of blood. Aiden’s vision blurs, the colors of the room bleeding into a monochrome haze. He isn't in the workshop anymore. He sees Harris standing in a dark forest, the moonlight filtering through the leaves. A man steps out from the shadows, his face obscured by a hood. He raises a dagger, the steel gleaming wickedly.

At the light touch, her face crumples, and tears fill her eyes. “Oh, Hales, I’m sorry. I’m sure that—” “No.” Hallee’s voice is sharp as she dashes her tears away. Her face morphs into fierce determination as she stalks toward the cars parked at the front of the house. “Where are you going?” Luka calls out. “To buy handcuffs,” Hallee snaps as she yanks her car door open. We glance at each other. “But it’s after midnight. There are no shops open,” Marshall comments.

My father may be dead, well that makes me the queen then doesn’t it. Declan hasn’t realised it yet. He will tonight. The Rogues know their way around now at least. The Black Hall forms the central hub. From that space there are nine legs, long narrow red-floored corridors from which endless rooms with the same red-painted metal doors show. Each door is numbered and each corridor has a distinct purpose. Corridors one to four are accommodation. Five and six are for food and drink storage, seven contain heating pumps and whatever else those filthy little bald men do to keep this place warm.