Mystic Eyes Of Death Perception Novels & Stories

Misha is standing in the middle of that oblivion, with her sweat drips from her forehead and the dark, full of mystery, yet holding the death and sin of the underworld starting to play into one musical piece. “DRIP, DRIP, DRIP. JUST HOW LOVELY WOULD THEIR DECAPITATED HEAD, TORN FLESH, AND EYES WIDE SHOUT OPEN WILL APPEAR IN THE BROAD DAYLIGHT?” From her fast-beating heart and the warnings that she needed to confirm. With quite shivering hands and cold turn sweat, she slowly removes her glasses as the horror greeted her. A CURSE TO DIE! DIE! AND BETTER YET STILL DIE!

If I could, I would kill them with my bare hands. I try to speak, but a gurgling sound erupts as blood fills my mouth. My eyes become hazy, but I swore my gaze landed on a huge grey wolf. I told myself I was seeing things. Who knew hallucinations played a role in dying. The wolf’s golden eyes stared into my soul. I smiled and tried to reach out to touch it, to see if what I saw was real. I never got the chance. My eyes close as terrified screams follow me into the darkness.

I felt a shiver run down my spine as I recognized the style… it was one I had seen before, a signature look that seemed to be favored by those who walked the fine line between life and death. There was something different about her... then it clicked… she was dead… and she had been Risen. The realization hit me like a cold slap, a sudden jolt of understanding that left me reeling. The Cryomancer's eerie beauty, her dark demeanor, and the unsettling sense of something being off all clicked into place. She was dead, her life force extinguished, and yet... she stood before me, a testament to the dark and ancient power of the Necromancers.

It looked like a lingering gust of cold wind that had suddenly stopped in one place only to sweep down and encircle me, yet failing to pass the borders of the hexagram. I looked inside, and I saw the souls of people who had died a sudden death at the hands of miscreants. Men and women, young and old, everyone who had wound up on the road at the wrong time, they were staring at me. Their eyes weren’t holes filled with darkness, oh no. They were blank, filled with the grey mist of a swamp, and they were watching. I spoke first, as was my due. “Are you ready to avenge your deaths?”

Lunar ink runs down my sleeves in the shapes of moons and constellations that no longer exist. I wear no crown, yet I have outlived kings. I have not seen the mortal world with these eyes for more than forty years. They are white and sightless—yet they see too much. Places beyond the veil. Flames that burn backwards through time. Wolves long dead still howling in the marrow of my soul. And tonight, these eyes cry. I kneel at the altar, my spine bent beneath the weight of the gods. My hands shake above the ceremonial basin, palms split and bleeding where my nails dug in during the vision. My breath is shallow, as though the air itself resists entering my lungs.

Caspian waved his Eight Desolate God-Terminator Halberd expressionlessly. "The Gaze of Death!" The red and black light descended like the will of Death. At this moment, the vision caused by the violent trembling of an almost spirit tool became more vivid because of the improvement of the strength of Caspian. The huge eyeball was dark and gloomy, without any white in it. It was full of glaring red, like a pool of blood pond, which was daunting. cultivators who were constantly rushing around couldn't help but stop. Then they saw the tall cultivator in front of Caspian broken into pieces with a bang.

"But you have to give me something in return." What could it be? I didn't voice that question but he saw it in my eyes, I know. He smirked. For that brief moment, I saw something else flickered in his blazing orbs. Something I never thought I could see in someone's eyes. I saw death. My death.

Her purple eyes slowly opened to see only a blurry indistinct silhouette, inspiring her fear. ["Hush; You don't deserve to Die"] •••

Cold. That’s what the rogue's eyes had left me feeling—cold and stripped bare. Ever since he'd opened them, I couldn’t shake the unnatural clarity in those blank, colorless irises. There was no shade, no light, only an endless gray like mist over a barren field. It was terrifying and…utterly enthralling. Each time his gaze shifted, I caught hints of some deeper struggle within him, flashes of purple that came and went, like tiny fissures on the surface of calm water. I told myself it was only his inner turmoil spilling through, but even now, his image haunted me, leaving me feeling raw and exposed.

I had encountered death too many times and each time, I saw my life flashing in front of me. But this time, it was different. Warm green eyes flashed in front of me, a whisper echoed among the chaos inside me. “One last time, ocean eyes.” My eyes fluttered close, and I let the darkness whisk me away from this cruel world. ***