Mister Sinister Novels & Stories

A, I gave the monster the ability to locate anywhere in MistWorld. I also added monsters like the last one I had created just in case the monsters arrived and I needed a chance to escape. This time, I gave them super strength, a little more height, and speed. The black mist appeared just as three scorpion-wolves stepped out of the forest, their eyes on me, and roared. Taking an involuntary step back, I summoned my earth powers. Thorny vines shot out of the woods and wrapped themselves around one of the monsters, trapping it but it wouldn't hold for long.

It was just a mere memory of him having sex with me and a feeling I had all the while. “Relax, it’s a beautiful morning, don’t stress yourself and ruin it for both of us,” What? How rude. What did he think of himself? Who was he? He was Mr. Nikola Bernardi of Bernardi Enterprises Worldwide. “I—I—want to go h—home,” I stuttered. That’s the amount of power he had on me just by his name. “Of course, we will go home,” “What do you mean? I…I wanna go my home… where are you planning to take me?” My subconscious reminded me how easily he could trick me and take me away from here to somewhere I could never be back from… just like what my mother did. “Please let me go,”

With that, she walked towards the door, opened it, went out and shut the door softly. As her footsteps grew faint, I scooped the creamy dessert and shoved the damn spoon into my mouth with a plan formulating in my head. Watch out, mate. I, Keller Madsen, will chase your gorgeous ass no matter what it takes. Prepare to be swooned.

He counted the money again himself to be sure that he wasn't being duped. A satisfied smile crept to his face when he finished confirming the money. He pushed it into his pockets and faced them again. "His name is Jerry Ishag and he's a paid assassin and a thief amongst other things. You should be glad all he did is steal from you. He usually does more than just that to his victims." His tone was full of spite. Detective Adams could not wait for him to get to the crux of the matter. "He's a friend to one of my friends. They meet at a secluded country club twice every month to have fun with their blood money. They've met once already this month. Their next meeting will be in a week."

“His name’s Victor Lund. Norwegian, I think. Operates out of a gallery front in the Marina District. Goes by ‘Art Broker’ most of the time, but don’t let the name fool you. He’s not in the art business.” “Is he dangerous?” The man gave a short laugh. “Aren’t we all?” I slid a small, unmarked envelope across the bar. Not a bribe, just a thank you—something to make him forget my face a little faster. He tucked it into his coat without looking. “One more thing,” he said as I got up. I paused. “You didn’t get this from me.” “Get what?” He smiled again, this time with teeth. Then he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

the well-dressed man asked, raising an uncertain eyebrow as he gave her a thorough once-over before dashing back to meet her bland brown eyes. In response to his query, Vinnie tilted her head to the other side, her dark hair tumbling off her shoulder. The man probably got a hint, as in the next moment, he was swiftly apologizing. “Wait. I forgot. I’m so sorry. You can’t talk, right?” he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder and took a quick glance behind the counter. “That girl over there mentioned that. She called herself your friend. It completely slipped my mind,” he shook his head before shipping his red-stained eyes back to her. “I should really consider sleeping more…” that, he muttered to

"This is unacceptable! How did this happen?!" angrily asked Don Fernan Sarmiento. He stood up from his chair and slammed the table hard. He was the owner of the most renowned shipping company in the entire country. He had just received news that his trusted vice president had flown to another country with a large sum of money from their company. Everyone in the room fell silent and immediately turned their heads. They couldn't meet the intense gaze of the furious gentleman. They were in the middle of a meeting when an executive of the company suddenly entered to deliver the news.

and I don't know if I should be using it without their permission." "What'd ya mean, mister?" Shannon replied. "We'll be careful." "Or we could just forget it." "No, no," I interjected, "I'd like you to try it, I really would." "It's just that I think I shouldn't leave the room. In fact, maybe I should handle the controls and be sure nothing went wrong." Shannon's eyes widened, and she looked at Roger. All of a sudden he said something really smart, "Well, here's how I see it, Shannon. This guy is a stranger to us. We won't see him again. You got to doctors who see you naked. And at dinner you said how excited you were to try this thing. So I say it doesn't make any difference if he's here

I could only keep shut and let him tell me by himself. Just then, there was a knock on the door, and Damien rose from the bed to open it. A stranger walked in, dressed in a black suit. His hair had been styled to perfection, and there was no trace of expression on his face. He seemed like some security. Perhaps the security in charge of the hotel? But what might a security guard want to say this early in the morning? “Young master,” The man called out, and I felt as though my brain was electrocuted. Young master? Why would such a person refer to Damien as “young master?

Nobody trusts anyone until you shove proof into their face. I sighed and lifted the hem of my shirt, revealing the black dragon tattoo inked deep into my skin—the symbol of The Ghost. The mark that made nations tremble. The emblem that ensured every enemy took their final breath in fear. The man’s eyes widened in shock. The room gasped collectively. “I—I’m s-sorry,” he stuttered. I smiled sweetly, stepped closer, and before he could blink— CRACK. His neck snapped between my fingers like it was made of thin wood.