Mystery White Marble Novels & Stories

It felt as though the realm existed solely to absorb the pain and despair of those who sought me, offering them peace and comfort in return for my own growing emptiness. I sighed, letting my gaze wander around the room. The walls were crafted from gleaming white marble, their polished surfaces catching the faint moonlight that seeped through the tall, arched windows. The floor mirrored the same pristine marble, cool underfoot, while the ceiling rose high, its intricate patterns blending into the purity of the room. Every furnishing followed the same motif: curtains of flowing white silk, a vanity carved from pale stone, and a bed adorned with delicate white embroidery. Even the comforter tha

And then, suddenly, I was somewhere else. I stood barefoot on marble, cold against my skin. I was in a vast corridor of ivory and alabaster. The walls shimmered like moonstone, casting reflections that danced even though no flame burned. Everything around me pulsed with power—like the air had secrets etched into it, secrets too old and too sacred for human tongues to name. And then I saw her. The White Lady. Again. She stood at the far end of the hall, back turned, robes like smoke trailing around her, whispering against the marble. Her silver hair flowed in waves down her back, and her hands, clasped behind her, radiated a light that didn't cast a shadow.

he said pitifully. Although Louisa was thankful and grateful, she still couldn't believe the man was just a mere Hunter. Once again she rolled her eyes round the building, it was a luxurious building painted in white, on the wall hung a blur painting that seemed to be a family portrait. Five royal chairs placed at each corner of the living, the floor glittered so much that she could see her face on it. Antiques and ceramics porcelain filled with marble stone shones very close to her,she dug her hand in the pot and examined the stones, they definitely weren't ordinary Stone.

The interior halls of the castle complex were vast with high arched ceilings. Again, a mixture of maurium and stone accents provided the opportunity for some artistic variation. The ornate stone work and marvel floors along with the decorative metal mesh which was found throughout the halls left the feeling somewhere between a medieval cathedral and a modern courthouse. The maurium was a centerpiece, from the luminescent purple cracks in the gray marble to the glow of the purple lamps, orbs of light hanging from the ceiling and ensconced like torches on the wall, to the small, carefully crafted gems which lined the halls, all was to show the prominence, power, and versatility of the fine mat

The heavy marble door of the isolated powder room clicked shut behind Maeva, cutting off the distant, muffled classical music of the gala. The room was a pristine sanctuary of white Carrara marble, smelling faintly of lavender and fresh water. She stood before the grand vanity mirror, looking at the dark red stain of Zane's wine stretching across the front of her white silk gown. It looked like a blooming, bloody chest wound, but Maeva's face remained calm. She reached for a damp paper towel, intending to dab the liquid before it set.

I try again, louder this time, but still, there’s nothing. Taking a deep breath, I reach for the handle and turn it. To my surprise, it’s unlocked. The door creaks open, and I step inside, my breath catching in my throat. The room is dark, so dark that for a moment, I can’t see anything. But then my eyes adjust, and the details begin to emerge. The walls are a deep crimson, the color of blood, and the floor is made of white marble, its surface gleaming faintly in the dim light.

From the outside, it must look like we won tonight. Inside the apartment, the silence deepens. I walk straight past the living room and into the master bathroom. Marble. Glass. Chrome. Everything precise. Everything reflects too much. I sit on the edge of the tub, the cold marble biting through my silk slip, and stare at the small white stick gripped between my trembling fingers. I don’t want to look, but I can’t turn away from the reality surfacing. Two pink lines begin to bloom against the white, faint at first, like a whispered secret, then sharpening into an unmistakable verdict.

I reached out into the dark, my fingers meeting the freezing, slick surface of a stone platform that vibrated with a faint, subterranean pulse. A tiny, pale blue light flared from the ceiling above us, illuminating a single object placed perfectly in the center of the exit path. It was a pristine, white porcelain mask belonging to the High Inquisitor himself, its surface cracked across the eyes and weeping a steady stream of thick, un-coagulated blood onto the flagstones.

"Ignorance is bliss. Isn't that the saying?" "Not in this case. These things, these monsters, whispers, or whatever they may be, they have a weakness. And I only seek to inform you in case it comes down to the worst, you'll be able to take care of yourself. My family killed one of the sisters long ago. The patriarch of my family to be precise. He killed one of the sisters, the one called Claire. They called her the ice. She was the cold. It's why my family retains that power. It's why it snows most times on Crest Hill, even in summer. We use it to create a bit of comfort for the heat. The first White could have killed them all, but one called the red one surprised my family. No one knows wha

I’m also a little nervous about what kind of dress he will have picked out for me … I guess I will find out later. I meet Marquis in the hallway and we begin walking down the steps through the castle walls. It’s stunning of all the colours I can see in the light. Blue and white mosaic tiles adorn the celling and floor in places. They add a glorious pop of colour amidst the sandstone and white marble. There are huge pillars holding up parts of the castle we walk through, and I really try to remember where we have gone so I can find my way back.