Man On Fire Audiobook Novels & Stories

I moved closer to the chair, the hum filling the room. I leaned in again, my voice low. “Here’s the thing. Everyone talks. Maybe not at first. Maybe not for hours. But eventually, everyone breaks. You’re no different.” The man spat again, this time at my boots. “I won’t break.” I smiled coldly. “We’ll see.” My men pressed the metal prongs against his ribs, and the jolt ripped through him like fire. His back arched, his scream tearing from his throat and echoing off the stone. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air.

The operatives had lied about everyone being sent away due to one of them setting fire to the Main Manor’s barn as I fell back from the growling figure I realized tonight I may meet my death. —————————— Note: This book is the property of Ulliend’s Musing. This book is only allowed in approved formats such as Good Novel, TikTok, etc., under the Ulliend’s Musings brand.

“And I’m not afraid of you.” The flames got louder, crackling and roaring like a storm. They were all around the man now, like they had a life of their own. They moved like angry waves, wrapping around him and climbing up his body. He screamed—a high, awful sound that made my blood run cold. It was the kind of scream you don’t forget. The kind that stays in your ears even after it stops. But then… he went silent.

Vincenzo’s nonchalant deep voice rumbled out his chest, his gaze fixated on his phone. “Why do you care? Last I checked, you hate me.” I confronted, not caring about the fact that this man was an epitome of danger. He could unlive me in a matter of seconds, yet, I couldn’t stop talking, no matter how hard I tried. It seems he knew what button to press to get me all riled up and mad. “I don’t hate you.” He bit out in a clipped tone, his unwavering gaze still focused on his phone. “And I don’t care. If you’re educated enough, you should know the viruses that cause colds are transmissible.”

But three people in that room witnessed the scary scene which was enough to choke air out of their lungs. Manik threw that file away after the second lighter fell upon it, he started panting heavily seeing the fire in front of him. He started sweating more with each passing second, he couldn't care less about his stern image infront of his employees because all he could see was fire in front of his eyes. Though he had tried to overcome his fear for fire over the years but he couldn't achieved that milestone. All he could see was burning of the pages in that fire, before papers could turned into ashes they were wet due to water poured on them from above fire alarms. Fire indeed stopped in a m

He dove into the flames, his hands reaching for her. Audrey saw the fire closing in. She saw the man she "didn't know" walking into an inferno just to reach her. The injustice of it—the sheer, selfless love of it—hit her like a physical blow. I am not a victim, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. It wasn't Selene’s voice. It was her own. The door in her mind didn't open; it exploded. A shockwave of white-hot energy blasted outward from the log. The Alchemist’s Fire didn't just go out; it turned into gold-leafed embers that floated harmlessly in the air. The mercenaries were thrown back by a wall of pure force.

Maya found herself leaning forward. The proposer argued mental health, addiction, the death of real connection. The opposer countered with community building, marginalized voices finally heard, revolutions organized online. Back and forth. Back and forth. Then Idris stepped in. “Time,” he said. “Well done. Now… questions from the audience?” Hands shot up. Idris pointed, moderated, kept energy flowing. He was good. Really good. Then his eyes found Maya again. “You.” He pointed. “In the yellow shirt.”

But of course, we ran into a few hiccups while video calling at home. For example, we nearly got discovered by his mom. "Are you done with your homework, or are you reading comics again?" I looked at him in the video and saw that he was staring off into space. Upon closer inspection, there was an open comic book lying on the table next to him. However, when I yelled at him, Austin immediately whipped his head around and buried his nose into the revision books again. A short while later, he peeked at me again and gave me the saddest puppy-dog eyes.

I interrupted, pointing my gun at his forehead ready to shoot. “What I care about is taking down anyone who gets in my way.” Suddenly, Leo's men emerged from the shadows, guns blazing. My men returned fire, and the warehouse erupted into chaos. I dove behind a crate, bullets whizzing past my head. "Take cover!" I yelled to my men. Leo's voice rang out above the gunfire. “You'll never take me alive, Alexander!” I peered around the crate, my gun locked on Leo. "We'll see about that," I growled, squeezing the trigger.

“Something real. Not a memory of a party or a name of a person we both hate. Tell me something you see right now.” I looked around the room. I saw the way the firelight danced on the gold leaf of the book spines. I saw the dust motes dancing in the air like tiny, silent stars. I saw the way the shadows made him look younger, softer. “I see the fire,” I said, my voice low and melodic. “It’s dying down to embers, a soft, glowing orange. It looks like the heart of a mountain. And the books… they look like a city of paper, all standing at attention, waiting for someone to listen to them. And I see a man who is far more than the darkness he’s been handed.”