His Savior Her Executioner Novels & Stories

"I’m Domenico." I was so engrossed in killing her that I didn’t notice when some of my men came running toward us. The two men grab my shoulder, attempting to pull me away from her, which only ignites the hatred in me. It was always this way: they only saw me as a monster. That I’m the disaster ready to destroy every fucking man on this planet, ignoring the fact why I’m doing this. What is the reason for me to become like this? My grip only tightened as I watched as her eye rolled back, going numb. Yes, you bitch, die. "You’re going to kill her, Romeo. Let her go." Luca's voice came from beside me.

She asked innocently. “No, of course there are no problems. Then, guard, come here.” Felix was summoned and he stood in front of the luna as a slightly different man. He was way stronger at the time and definitely had a better built than before. She was delighted to see his progress, at least she did not waste her time getting punished by Maxi before for nothing. “Felix had been aware of the protocol he was supposed to do. Only this time, unlike the other guards. He was not going to do it out of formality, but out of genuine love and respect for the woman who had saved him. His savior.

They had one thing in common, lacerations on the left and right side of the abdomen, under the left side of the heart appearing in the same fashion. Becker admitted Logan an efficient criminal. The bastard got the work done for the wrong deeds. They knew the Executioner’s identity one-man-army carrying out orders. Working outside of the Druid Hills Headquarters, Becker knew, Conyers Woods unsafe for government officials. The first victim was Debbie Wagner, a member of the CIA executed, then Judge Lucia Rosales. Logan went for officers over at Justice Complex starting with Walter Newton. Who would be next? Oddly, Logan and his team opt-out dealing with the men at Decatur Headquarters. Becker

His shoulders are broad, his expression solemn. “The first?” she asks. I nod. “The first executioner. Chosen when the world first fell out of balance. He was never crowned, never thanked. He simply obeyed.” She touches the image with reverence. “You’re the first woman, then?” “Yes. The first of my kind. The world hasn’t decided if that’s a gift or a threat.” Her gaze drifts to another wall. This one always hurts to look at—two girls, identical, tangled in thorns. Their faces show no pain, only resignation.

Heriberto protested, stepping back. "But your bones are magical," Vida said. "We use Tate as the bait. We trap the Siphon in her. And then... we push it into you." She smiled. It was a terrifying expression. "And then we kill you." The silence in the cathedral was deafening. "No," Heriberto whispered. "I came here to save the world, not to be a sacrifice." "You wanted to be a savior," Marcus Blackthorn drawled from the shadows. "Here is your chance. Martyrdom is very popular these days." I looked at Heriberto. Then at Tate.

"Not at all, but you must have really given Armo a lot of trouble for him to tag you one." "How do you know this?" Sarah asked in surprise now. "How do you even know Armo at all?" "Renata bought me from the convent too," she replied. "And I am really glad to be out of that hell hole." "I caused the death of some of my friends while trying to escape," Sarah said sadly now. "It was the stupidest thing I have ever done. I wish I could take back the hands of time, Anita and Gladys would still be alive."

Her silent cries are more harrowing than any scream. The executioner, a tall, hooded figure, stands impassively beside the slab. His axe gleams menacingly in the torchlight as dusk settles over the capital. He moves, a slow, deliberate motion as he places a hand on her shoulder, guiding her to the slab. She resists, her fear giving her a strength borne of desperation.

The executioner, exploiting this, closed in with remarkable speed, seizing young Dexter by the neck and delivering a chilling message, "Your father tasked me with ensuring your death is painless, though I'm unsure how to achieve that. This is the best I can offer. Rest in peace, Prince Dexter!" Just as the executioner poised to snap Dexter's neck, Blaze unleashed a scorching beam of light from his hands, directing it fiercely at the executioner's face. The man's face began to liquefy like wax beneath an unrelenting sun. A haunting scream escaped the executioner as searing pain coursed through his body, his hands involuntarily releasing Dexter in a desperate attempt to assuage the torment. He

he said, his voice filled with tears, “if there’s another life after this, I promise I’ll come back and make them pay for what they’ve done to you.” Tears streamed down my face as the executioner raised his axe, the blade glinting in the sunlight. “Godfrey,” I shouted watching the axe come down when suddenly the executioner fell backward, a dagger in his head. The crowd froze as they parted ways, revealing the southerners, coming in their thousands. Thomas stumbled backward as the Southerner's sentinels surrounded him. A man stepped forward, behind him was the commander. His appearance looked bold and commanding. He must be the King of the South.

“I’m sorry for everything we lost, for the chances we never took. But I won’t let this be the end. Not for us. Not today.” He squeezed my hand, his grip strong despite the bonds. “Then let’s do this. Together.” With a final breath, I opened my eyes, my vision sharpening as the power within me surged to the surface. The time had come to turn the tide, to take back what was ours. And as the executioner raised his weapon, I unleashed everything, shattering the bonds that held us and igniting the fire that would burn through Maria’s lies once and for all.