Needles Of Vengeance Novels & Stories

I fought to keep my voice steady. Suddenly, he was right in front of me. A vampire's speed was impossible to react to. He reached for my veil. But I was faster. A silver needle appeared at my fingertips—consecrated in holy water. It shot for his throat. Dorian flinched back instantly. The needle grazed his skin, leaving a thin red line. "Prince Valkyrie," I said in my coldest voice, "remember our terms." He clutched his throat, staring at me in disbelief.

Her brow furrowed as she gazed at me. “It's me,” I said, pulling the hood of my hoodie off my head and removing the sunglasses from my eyes. “Who Are you?” She asked, still not recognizing me. “Oh I forgot we haven't officially met, I'm Vanessa” Her eyes softened as she realized. “You are the girl who..” I nodded. “Yes” She groaned in pain. My eye moved to her stomach where she had gotten stabbed. It was wrapped tight with a bandage and a little bit of blood peeped through it.

The silver needles began to descend, their tips grazing the skin of her spine. "Dante! Ahh! It’s burning! Make it stop!" Dante threw his empty rifle at the remaining Vessels and lunged for the cradle. He didn't care about the needles. He didn't care about the alarms. He grabbed the silver arm of the injector and pulled. The metal groaned. Sparks showered his arms, burning holes in his tactical shirt. He ground his teeth so hard he felt another molar crack. "I've got you, B! I've got you!"

The room was small, cold and smelled like bleach. Vance put his briefcase on the steel table. He opened it. "Sit, Mr. Vale. Let's make this fast." I sat in the chair, rolling up my sleeve. My skin was hot. The scent of vanilla still clung to my clothes. The bleach in the room helped mask it. Vance pulled out a needle and a tube. He did not look at me. He grabbed my forearm, wiped it with alcohol and put the needle in my vein. The dark blood flowed into the tube. I watched it fill, my mind racing back up the elevator shaft. Theo was alone. The heat was hurting him. If the locks did not hold or if someone else came up, everything would fall apart.

Instead, he cheered happily, "It hurts! It's true! It's true!" With extreme joy on his face, he threw the dagger aside and picked up a row of 72-colored needles from the pile of magic weapon. Each needle was as long as an adult's palm and connected to each other, forming a set of Murder Arrays. At this moment, Cidas Mont held the needles in his hand and then stabbed them into his arms, head, and eyeballs. The long needles poked into his body and blood flowed out. 72 needles entered his body. Soon, Cidas Mont became a bloody man.

I was far from stopping. I moved to his thigh, jabbed another needle, and deposited a healthy amount of the solution. The third needle went right to his cheekbone; a perfect place to deposit the burn to his head and straight to his spine. “You don’t get to live, Viper. Not after what you’ve done. I owe it to her.” His body was buried and quaked, blood splattering to the floor. The Himalayan salt spread around his body, raw and unforgiving. His screams echoed around the room, his tears mixing with his blood.

I opened my mouth to scream again but then I felt a needle prick my neck. “What– are–you?” My words slurred, the world tilting. The last thing I saw was the driver's sleeve pulled up as he gripped the wheel- there was a tattoo around his wrist. Fortes fortuna adiuvat Fortune favours the bold. Then everything went black. The first thing I noticed was the smell of damp wood and hay and then the faint smell of animal musk. I was in a barn. My head throbbed and I felt a dull pain at the site where the needle had pierced me.

His calloused fingers gently graced the rough flesh of his as he smoothly ran them until it touched the tattoo covering his left shoulder, the tattoo ran through his neck as well slightly covering it but the main source of his vengeance and hatred was on display. His index finger covered the sharp straight scar around his neck near collarbone darkening his gaze, he narrowed his eyes letting his unblinking lost gaze get stuck over it. He loved the fire this scar burn higher whenever his finger touched it, he adored the fact the venom that touch his veins at each stroke of his fingers, and he definitely preferred the power it surged in him to fasten the pace of his revenge and make everyone pa

After the wedding, I knew Zac would help me bring down James' company. I knew I had too much to do but that was less than the pain I felt during the hours they hid me. I want to hurt them over and over. I want them to kneel at my feet while crying and apologizing. I'm not going to stop until I get what I want. I will torture them and abandon them. I will exact my vengeance until the day I die. I was so angry that I just burst into tears. I retouched my make-up again and they reminded me not to cry too much because my make-up was a waste. They thought so I was crying out of excitement. But what they didn’t know was the anger and pain so I cried.

Uncle is looking at him with huge eyes, fear controlling his face. With one swipe of his finger, the bullets attack him. I shriek, jumping on my feet. All the bullets hit him in his head, chest. The blood sputters around. My wide gaze rests on him. Louis smirks looking down at his work, "Vengeance is completed." His voice is a soft whisper in the war. "H... he s a ghost. Don't har... m us." My father's shaking arms curl around me. My knees hit the ground as my own body feels heavier. I can't stand on my feet. I try to focus on him.