Othello Novels & Stories

Forever. “There’s something much more important, Norah.” She straightens up in her chair and I look around. We’re seated at the outer part of the bar, under a large umbrella and occupying a cute wooden round table. I don’t think we should be talking about all of this literally just beside the street. But the weather is nice today and we both want to enjoy it without worrying about nosy strangers. “Well, the chief revealed that Mark was actually poisoned with the belladonna extract you gave me that night. And Oliver’s fingerprints were found on the vile,” I explain.

he paused and pointed the gun at Cynthia. "You were so good in bed, I foolishly let you into my bed without knowing that you are Delilah. Thank God I am not Sampson who was blinded by sweet pûssy. I am smarter than you" he shrugged. "How much did that guy pay you? Oh, maybe he fûcked you better than I did!" He laughed. "It feels good to waste the blood of those who betrayed you. It will be more fun sucking the blood of your enemies!"

she said against swollen lips. They slipped out separately, descending different stairs, reentering the chaos of quick changes and painted smiles. No one noticed the marks beneath collars, the tremor in famous hands, the scent of sex clinging to their skin like perfume. Onstage, when Salome finally kissed the severed head, Elena’s tongue lingered longer than rehearsal had ever allowed. In the private box above, empty now, the velvet chaise bore dark stains and the faint imprint of two bodies that had burned the house down without striking a single match.

he murmurs as he closes his eyes and rests his head on the bed. Viola began to tremble. Her face was filled with worries, her eyes watery as she hugged herself. "Gisella, Gisella, Gisella, why?" she gasps. "No, Pietro," she tugs his suit angrily, making Pietro open his eyes tirelessly. "The one you love is Viola! It's me! Not Gisella Molinero. She is a pregnant married woman. Pietro, get over her already. Say it, say it, Pietro, say you love Viola, "Pietro groans reluctantly. "I love Viola?" he asks.

Daven again said, ‘So, what do you want from me? Shylock said, ‘ I just want my princess, she is only mine.’ Daven said, ‘ok let me handle this.’ Shylock replied, ‘hmm, I know, I can trust you!’ Daven didn’t reply but smiled at him. —------------------------------------------ The next morning came, Ricardo was the one, who woke up the first. He saw everyone, when he saw Ishu, he move his gaze from her eyes because he didn’t want to see her face without her permission.

Ophelia spotted Lewis laughing from a corner, enjoying their confusing and frightened state. The wind took the pins of her hair, letting it pour over her shoulders and she was made still with her eyes bulging out of their sockets. Lewis was the fourth victim and a gasp flew from Ophelia's mouth upon seeing through the fog, Finlay's beta hungrily kissing a maid inside the room where drums of wine were stored in the castle.

Within a minute, the dead army is turned into ashes. The lake turns murky and black with the ashes, soon they clear out. As if the water treated the ashes and it turns pure again. "I will come back for you Althea" he whispers near my ear. My spine becomes stiff and sweat beads on my forehead. "You are mine to take, mine to possess. You will not escape from me this time" he says darkly with anger laced voice. The mysterious figure is approaching us faster if we go by the flapping sound which is increasing by the second.

His eyes were steady and very grey and held something she'd never seen in them before: the specific quality of a man waiting to be destroyed by something he's said. The omelet was burning.

she muttered in a small voice. "Fanculo" (fuck ) he spat, Ophelia wasn't sure if he was disgusted by his name or what was the reason that caused the frustration to light up in his green orbs making it look darker. "ti porto a casa dolci" (I am taking you home sweets) He's spat louder this time talking in some foreign language as he held her hand. Ophelia was afraid that she might have even left with him if not for that one word that certainly made her a break out of her trance.

Rain thundered against stained glass overhead. Slowly— she approached. The room grew silent. Every gaze followed her. Some recognized her. Others recognized the necklace. But everyone recognized power. Elena reached the casket. And opened it. The sight nearly broke her. Roberto looked asleep. Dark hair. Sharp features. Peaceful. Too peaceful. Like he might open his eyes at any moment and ask why she was causing trouble again. Her throat tightened painfully. Not now. She couldn’t fall apart now. Not yet.