Lorenzo Haunting Ground Novels & Stories

Her breathing shifted into short, labored gasps, filled with a silent suffering her closed eyes couldn’t conceal. Lorenzo lurched to his feet. The book hit the floor, forgotten. “Azzurra!” His voice cracked—logic stripped bare by panic. He grabbed Aria’s cold hand. And a new darkness began creeping into the room.

He bent down, grumping in pain his two hands on his belly “I have warned you”, but you seem to be lightheaded. “Meet me at home bby ,I will be waiting for you” she retorted She opened the car and hopped into it ,it then zoomed off Lorenzo still in pain ,still in pain fixated on one spot ********* Lorenzo walked into the room early in the next morning, while she was still sleeping He sat on the couch staring at her. He curled his lips ,eyes squinting , staring dead into her soul.

Once, twice, until it gave way with a crash. Then, with a strangled grunt, he dove through. I didn’t chase. My focus was on her. Lorenzo rushed to the window. “He landed in the dumpster. Limping. But he’s running.” “Let him,” I muttered. “He’ll wish I caught him first. He's already a dead man.”

The lights flickered back on, chasing away the darkness, but the heaviness in the air stayed. My breath came fast, shallow, and I could hear the thundering of my heart in my own ears. Lorenzo stood at the foot of the bed, his tall frame blocking the soft city glow spilling in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. His eyes pinned me in place, sharp and unreadable, like a predator ready to strike. "Still scared?" His voice was low, smooth, but dangerous enough to make my stomach twist.

“We searched the docks again. The western districts too. No sign.” Lorenzo’s jaw tightened. His reflection in the glass looked unfamiliar—eyes red, cheek hollowed by sleepless nights. This war had been chewing him from the inside out. “A woman,” he muttered. “One woman humiliated me.” Neither man spoke. Lorenzo’s hand lashed out, sweeping a crystal ashtray from the table. It shattered against the wall. “She was tied,” he snarled. “Drugged. Watched. And still she ran. Do you know what that makes me?”

Probably still sore, still aching, still clenching around nothing and remembering exactly how we’d stretched her earlier. My cock throbbed harder with every step. But before we reached the landing, a voice cut through the quiet like a blade through silk. “Brothers!!” We both froze mid-stride and turned. Lorenzo stood at the bottom of the stairs. He was smiling. That smile. The one that looks sweet and boyish and almost innocent—until you notice how wide it stretches, how the corners twitch like they’re fighting not to split his face open, how his gold eyes glitter with something manic and holy and utterly fucking unhinged.

Too much strength was drawn out by the expulsion of a strange undead and undead opponent. From the side of the clearing came singing, a beautiful female voice brought out viscous iridescent phrases in an unfamiliar language, louder and louder, with imperious intonations. "What the hell?! I just calmed her down! Can't be!" - Lorenzo, looking out between the branches, observed a picture worthy of being described in the notes of some traveler to the end of the world or in a fairy tale that an old woman whispers over her grandson's cradle.

Lorenzo sat by the fireplace, staring into the small flames. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Mateo, the way he turned his gun on Ricardo, the way he shouted for him to run. He couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t breathe properly. His heart felt trapped somewhere between guilt and hope. When the floorboard creaked behind him, Lorenzo tensed instantly, grabbing the nearest weapon, a knife from the table. A voice came softly from the shadows. “Easy, bella tempesta.” Lorenzo froze. He knew that voice.

Lorenzo barely reacted, but I felt his hand tighten on mine. The next few rooms were pretty standard haunted house fare. Creepy dolls, chainsaw-wielding maniacs, zombies in cages. I was having fun, getting into it, letting myself get scared. Lorenzo was... tolerating it. "You're not scared at all, are you?" I asked as we walked through a hallway lined with mirrors. "I've seen actual dead bodies. Rubber masks don't do much for me." "You're no fun." "You knew that when you dragged me here."

Lorenzo screamed. . To be continued...