House Of Beating Wings の小説・ストーリー

he said through clenched teeth. Then the pain exploded. Damien let out a cry, gripping the edge of the bed as his back arched violently. "Damien!" Seraphine rushed toward him. His scream tore through the quiet house. A loud cracking sound echoed through the room. Seraphine froze. Something was moving beneath Damien's skin. His shoulders jerked, his muscles tightening as if something inside him was forcing its way out. Another crack. Then suddenly, two massive wings burst from his back. Dark, powerful, and enormous.

He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her firmly to the living room where there were no outsiders. Then, he slapped her again viciously on the face. “You bitch! Are you trying to fight back now, huh?!” He bellowed with rage. “Our family had raised you, so consider it paying a debt to be sold off, but you are being insolent!” SLAP. When he slapped her again it sent Anna on the floor with her bleeding lips. Nearby, her sister, Natasha was smiling from ear to ear as if she enjoyed the show. But she really enjoyed seeing Anna getting the beating from their father.

He bangs more throwing the don't open and I get thrown to the floor as the figure stand in the open doorway. “Welcome to the House of shadows, you will not leave here.”

I shakily opened the door of the clinic, which was quieter than before, and nervously peered inside. I saw my husband lying on the floor and passed out. He slashed his wrist, which Logan is currently treating… And by just seeing how he harmed himself, I don't know if it's the right decision for me to stay in his power.

Raven mumbled, frozen in shock. In the video was the bright dining room of the very Alpha house in front of them, except the floor was soaked in blood, the blood of the White couple. Their body was out of shape because they were in such great pain that they lost control of their body, and their body was randomly half-shifted. Their faces were twisted, and they were clawing their own body as if trying to dig something from under their skin, their eyes red as the pool of blood on the floor-- “Keep it quiet and I will spare your son.”

One of them was unconscious and wearing a cape while the other one had his wings flapping on his back while holding the unconscious guy. "That was close! Good thing I still managed to pull him out before something happened," the one with white wings said with relief. "That was really close. If you didn't manage to do your task properly, I would have killed you," the woman, coming out from her monitoring room, said with a dagger look throwing to the man with wings. "Stop moving your wings. You're messing my whole house like what your brother did!" he exclaimed irritably when he saw the wretched man relentlessly flapping his brilliant wings.

Beatrice headed towards it, feet making no sound in this dead town, the tiny bell guiding her. She stood before the house. There were two windows and the front door on the ground floor. The porch ran across the entire front of the house, supported by several balustrades. The second floor had three tall windows, all black and unremarkable, and toward the right aspect, a rectangular tower jutted from the roof, indicating an attic with a single window. The lawns were full of dark grey grass, ankle deep, and two sad looking acacia trees flanked the house. Like all the other houses, Beatrice could see the main entrance had its door thrown wide, and without fear she walked down the cracked path, a

The creak of her bones seemed to protest dully until the last joint finally snapped into place, her rapid labored breathing the only sound left in the room. Her legs caved beneath her as she slumped to the floor, a heavy tussling following and loud bang sounding as she knocked over the chair in the corner of the room. She craned her neck to view the finished product of her suffering- to the broad, velvety bat-like wings extending from beneath her shoulder blades, her still-hot blood soaking her back. A deep hum swept from her throat, like a low musical hymn that poured into the walls of the house. God, how powerful she felt, how sweetly the tastes of death and murder swam through her mouth.

What thoughts are going through your pretty little mind? Lifting her head, she cracked her neck and unfurled her wings from the skin between her shoulder blades. The thin blue fabric of her dress moved as they reached out from beneath it. Her shoulder blade jutted with a slight scraping sound. The brown flesh-covered wing emerged. Unfolding like an accordion. Flexing her shoulder blades caused the ten-foot span to straighten, whispering over the furniture before relaxing. Utterly silent he took a step back and ducked to evade one flexing wing.

He knows I have a secret stash, but I would never tell him where it is, I might have to change it really soon so he doesn’t steal it. I pranced downstairs, not taking notice of my wings banking the stairwell all the way down. I squeaked, covering my mouth with both my hands. Mom hates it when I don’t put my wings away when I’m in the house. It wasn’t my fault they had a mind of their own. They just flutter when I get real happy and then when I get all sad, they droop like those cute little killer whales’ fins they keep in captivity. Those poor whales.