روايات وقصص ضمن Kaleidoscope Of Death Novel

Hazel melts into green and blue, bright center dragging me under, pulling me into something dark and suffocating. A vision crashes hard into me. All too quick. A knife plunging into her stomach. A faceless man. Blood everywhere. Brooklyn on the floor, dying, whispering through broken breaths: “Dear universe… let me come back again. Let me have another life. Let me take revenge for my family. Take whatever you want in return.” My chest clenches violently. I can’t breathe. The world tilts. Was she… Was she also killed the same night I died?

Then he rolls himself over and disappears into the darkness below. I try to stand. Try to follow. Try to finish what I started. My body doesn’t respond. The last thing I see before the darkness swallows me whole is the massacre I created. Bodies everywhere, torn apart in ways that don’t look like the work of anything sane. Entrails steaming in the cold air. Limbs scattered like broken toys. Blood turning the snow into a red swamp that stretches as far as I can see. Arrows still protruding from my flesh like some grotesque decoration. And my hands — my claws — covered in so much gore I can’t tell where the death ends and I begin.

After catching my supposedly frigid wife, Emmy Winslow, aroused by our household robot butler, I swallowed my disgust and sent the machine to a destruction facility. I never expected that decision to cost her life. On the way to chase after the robot, Emmy was involved in a horrific car accident and died at the scene. From that day on, I became notorious in our social circle as the jealous husband who drove his wife to her death. Five years passed. Night after night, I tortured myself by wondering if she would still be alive had I not been so petty over a machine. Until today, while discussing business at a private club, I passed a half-open VIP suite and heard one of Emmy's closest frie

She was so pretty and beautiful in her beautiful Arabian robes. I was more than shocked rather than being amazed. Soon, I started to feel hot. The floor of the elevator was being hot and it was warming the whole elevator. I could smell the pungent smell of the wires being burnt. I whipped with my nose. Shit !!! The elevator was burning down there and it was falling to the basement with the full speed like the hell... No one ... Literally, no one could save me. I had to die !!! Why was it always that I have the fate to die?

In the haunting depths of his eyes, she glimpsed the dance of death itself, an unrestrained force ready to consume her existence. I am dead. *** Enjoyed the twist in Hazel and Wyatt's story? Share your thoughts and feedback! Follow me on In stagram - aditisaxenaofficial for more updates and explore my other captivating stories. I would recommend you to try WHEN A BULLY FALLS IN LOVE.

There’s a body draped over the table in the center of the room, the table upon which Norbu created and destroyed his sand mandala, the symbolic fortress of Yamantaka, Lord of Death. I flip the light switch, sweep the room with the muzzle of the gun and find it devoid of the living. The bare bulb throws its ugly white light down on the scene, making the room too red for my head. The vodka soaked sandwich rises in my gullet. I taste mustard and bile before I choke it back down. I can’t have my DNA splattered all over the corpse of this woman who called me twice in the last hour. But I almost lose it. The heat is cranked, and in my coat and gloves, I nearly faint. I’ve never been squeamish, but

Apart from the gifts I had given her in the past, I found nothing that belonged to me. When she was taken away by the coroners, the only thing she had on was a thin nightgown. There was no way she had been carrying anything else on her. The same ominous question came back to me—Was it truly her in the first place? All the recent deaths were too much for me to handle. I propped my hands against Sybille’s desk and felt a metallic scent fill my mouth before throwing up a mouthful of blood. My blood splattered against the cover of a book. It was a copy of “The Book of the Dead” I had lent her.

MIRACLE A warning flashes in Cain’s eyes, but I can’t focus on it, because I fix my gaze on Alpha Baldwin who is awfully quiet for someone who is having his head ripped off his shoulder. A final gruesome twist and pull and Alpha Baldwin’s head comes off into Kale’s hand. Blood sputters and splashes everywhere as Alpha Baldwin’s headless body hits the ground with a satisfying thud and his bloody head remains in Kale’s hands. He turns around and my eyes shift to his face. I have a good look at the young boy, but then all my focus shifts to the head in his hand. Alpha Baldwin’s eyes stare back at me, unseeing and dead.

“And when he does, this world will crumble to ash. But if you stay here—if you finish what you started—he’ll wait until the end of his days, standing on that sidewalk with your words in his hands. You built this trap with your own pen. Now you have to decide which cage you want to live in.” Isadora closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, the world has shifted. The breakfast chamber is gone, replaced by her apartment back home—coffee cups on the table, papers scattered across the floor, her laptop open to the last page she ever wrote. Caelen stands beside her, still in his black coat, still with the scar over his eyebrow, but here he looks like just a man—a man standing in her living

Eventually, I moved on to a new home, a new job, and a new life. One day, I received a call from the police. The officer said, "Ms. Sawyer, good evening. We found a man who froze to death overnight at a cemetery. "He was heavily intoxicated. We traced his records and found that you were listed as his emergency contact." I exhaled slowly. "I used to be, but not anymore. Please proceed with your standard protocols." "Understood. Sorry to disturb you." After hanging up, I looked toward the sky and whispered a quiet prayer. I asked the universe to send kindness to those who truly needed it.