Novel & Cerita Mystery White Marble

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.

​He nodded toward the far end of the marble ballroom, near the balcony that overlooked the darkened city. ​A man stood there, completely still amidst the dancing crowd. He wore a suit of bone-white linen that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. He was unnervingly thin, his skin so pale it was almost translucent, revealing the faint, grey network of veins beneath. But it was his eyes that stopped my breath—they were a flat, milky white, devoid of pupils, as if he were looking at a world we couldn't see.

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.

It smelled of dry rot and ancient, metallic sorrow. Madison walked past the empty pedestals. In the center of the chamber, under a single, flickering fluorescent light, sat an iron sarcophagus. The lid had been pried open decades ago. Inside lay the mummified remains of a creature too large to be a man, too refined to be a beast. The original White Wolf.

Jacob gestured for us to go first and stepped aside. My eyes widened as I beheld a fountain positioned in the center of the vast foyer, natural light streaming from the ceiling and illuminating it from above. The fountain was enormous and truly remarkable! I had never encountered such a detailed and beautiful fountain before. The statues and orb were meticulously carved from the finest white marble, with shimmering golden flecks adorning the surface. I stepped forward, drawn to admire it up close, eager to touch the smooth marble with my fingertips. My gaze settled on the centerpiece—a woman perched on a platform, encircled by four Lycan wolves.

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.

With how far back they were going, would it be possible to ensure privacy? Marcus took an unexpected turn at one of the shelves, and the aisle ended with a mural on the stone wall. A gleaming and intricate painting of a glorious city sprawled out between the shelves. The spires of towering buildings were etched with gold, and various gemstones embedded in the rock made the entire scene burst with color. Sidia was momentarily distracted by the work of art, but Marcus brought her attention back quite easily.

I don't mind at all," I immediately replied. After walking through the main gate, we entered the inner yard. I can't believe the Mcadam mansion would be this big. The glistening white marble mansion stood tall under the glowing lights of lamposts. It was giving vintage vibes with the two marble statues of angels decorated either side of the entrance. As soon as I stepped inside the mansion, my eyes were focused on the interior of it. I couldn't take my eyes off the exotic paintings hanging around the mansion's inner hall. The staircase was of white marble crafted in exquisite designs.

"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