Light Gore Romane & Geschichten

Lorenzo said in a threatening voice as I tried to scamper away from him but he quickly covered the space between us, his eyes never leaving mine. “Listen to me, please! I’m sorry, I truly am!” I gritted my teeth, my voice desperate and pleading as I tried to put more distance between us. A deep growl rumbled from his throat in response. He reached out to grab me, he held a pocket knife in his hands and he raked against my arm—cutting not too deep, but enough to tear through the silk dress and flesh. A sharp pain shot up my arm, and then, I felt blood trickling down my arm from the small gash, its metallic scent thick in the night air.

Light answered like breath to lungs. A sunburst exploded from her palm: warm gold shot through with threads of incandescent white. It met the void sphere head-on. Power collided with power, neither giving ground. A concussive boom ripped outward, flattening tents, scouring loose stones, hurling corpses and broken weapons into the air. The shockwave made soldiers on both sides stagger, ears ringing.

To me, Darren's real Luna, those words were a slap in the face, a slap I had been putting up with for three years. Darren finally saw the humiliation I had been swallowing the entire time. Whenever I brought it up, he would just brush me off as being too sensitive. Furious, he nearly snapped the phone in half. He stormed over to Betty, fury blazing in his eyes. However, she was clueless to his rage, grinning as she teased, "What's the rush? Don't tell me you're planning to mark me while you're drunk?" She was draped against Darren's chest, trying to be alluring.

Without touching him, Lord Lucas boils him from within, heating his blood until he's cooked meat. My stomach is twisting in irritation at the sight. The sound of a gun machine follows up. It's Lord Lorenzo. He's surrounded the Harlows with lava, entrapping them in a spot right before he raises the machine above them. Their skin tears off in contact with massive bullets, burning holes in their bodies. Blood stains everywhere. The grounds are dug with bullet holes. I can see bones on the outside, spines shattered on the asphalt street as Ragnar drives us away. And there are still more of the Harlows, meaning more of the fight.

Muzzle flashes light up the dark room like strobe lights in a nightmare. Reapers fall in the doorway, their bodies piling up, creating a gruesome barricade of flesh. But more push over them. They are endless. "Now!" I scream to Zara. I flick the lighter. The rag catches with a whoosh of blue flame. I step out from behind the bar. I have a clear line of sight to the doorway. I throw. The bottle sails through the air, end over end, a trailing comet of fire. It smashes against the doorframe, right in the center of the rushing mob.

POV DARLENE The "Liminal North" was no longer a dreamscape; it was a theater of the dying. As the fourteen beams of black light pierced the violet-grey dawn, the air began to thicken, not with the ozone of the Foundry, but with the metallic, coppery scent of a slaughterhouse that had been left in the sun. The Grey Pack warriors, only just freed from their silver stasis, were not howling in victory. They were clutching their throats, their iridescent fur turning a dull, sickly ochre as the Original Hunger began to pulse from across the Great Divide.

He was about to say ‘my friends. “Gairoshi is a phrase from the old language of Apharoth. It means grit for glory,” explained Chaos. A strong wind blew outside the tent and some of the cold breeze got in. Carysse knew she felt the icy air but also felt it from her insides. It was like Gairoshi was a bad omen.

We watch as sand and rain blinds the mutts and Sky starts hitting some of them with lightning setting them alight like little beacons, "Look," Gregory says pointing to the body's on fire "It's a path," I look to see a path had been made, so following the lit up bodys we head towards the girls. As we get to the girls Gregory bends down to check Mathew and all me and Acre can do is stare at our beautiful mates, "What are you lookin at?" my precious mate spits at me with a venomous tongue, "me err, erm I" Acre starts laughing at me,

She yanked at his shirt as she breathed heavily from her ecstasy. Adepe growled, his eyes shut, and immediately tore his shirt off, revealing his tattooed body and his abs. He slid off his pants, and Loreen's face flushed deep red as she took sight of him. She reluctantly looked away, a feeling of worry taking over her as she couldn't comprehend how his manhood would fit inside of her. She felt a bit scared as she wasn't oblivious to the fact that it was quite painful. She even heard from girls when she was in high school.

He dragged her under the deep shadow of a large overhanging boulder, completely cutting off the sniper's line of sight from the high ridges above. Amora’s eyes instantly dropped to his right shoulder. A long, jagged tear ruined his dark work shirt. Beneath the fabric, a deep, smoking graze ran across his skin. The blood pouring from the wound wasn't a healthy, bright red. It was thick, dark, and bubbling with a strange, fizzing grey foam. The distinct, burning smell of scorched flesh and ozone filled the small hiding space. "Silver," Amora whispered, her face turning completely pale. "It was a silver bullet. It grazed you."