Possessed Stan Marsh Novels & Stories

He's definitely brain-dead if he thinks he can still control her as he likes. "Go. To. Hell," Calla said through gritted teeth, determination in her voice and fury in her eyes. She'd already made the decision to stop being their spy. She'd rather die. Marco smiled slowly. “Oh, trust me,” he said quietly. “I’ve been there. I sat at the devil’s table, smiled in his face, drank with him, and put a knife in his back when the prick wasn’t looking... Now, I'm back," he said, a bitter-sweet smile on his face. Calla's blood ran dry.

If it was anyone else, they'd be licking the floor by now for even breathing near my wine collection but I refrain myself because Lucifer Genovese is the one who helped me and my family get back their glory, he is the one pulling all the strings and all I had to do was wrap a thin wire across my father's neck and cut off his oxygen—which I was more than glad to do. "Nicole Russo," he starts. His empty, grey eyes access my every move but I remain unfazed on the outside, quietly sipping my drink. However, on the inside—ice ran through my veins because anything that comes out of his mouth, or any person who has the privilege of even being noticed by him, needs salvation. Nevertheless, a muscle

I realised that Yoshim was a monster and I couldn't be with him. I tried to escape and report him to the police but they rejected my case and brought me back to him. That is when my misery started. Why am I even thinking about that demon during such a happy moment? “Pull yourself together, Hillary.” I scolded myself internally. “What?” Rodrigo brought his face closer to hear me. “Nothing.” “Attention, attention.” The music stopped abruptly, and we all turned our heads to where the voice was coming from and it was Mrs Sango.

As soon as he put Mara down on the bed, he faced Shane and summoned his scythe to extract Shane's soul from his body. However, just before he's about to weild his scythe, he felt his body getting weaker and weaker. He dropped his scythe and vanished into the thin air. A second before he completely lost his consciousness, he saw three men carrying Shane's unconscious body out of the room. THE DEMONOIDS has successfully abducted Shane and tied his two comrades inside the janitor's closet. They can't help but feel excited as they can almost see the gates of hell and can almost proudly say that they worked their asses the hardest just to free the monstrous beings sleeping in hell.

For protecting her enemy who should have been dead right now if not for his interference. Marshall gave a deep sigh as he used his hands to snap his neck. Instead of falling to the ground, his head hung in a weird position a second before it snapped back to the right position. His face had completely changed and he looked like a monster right now with his fangs that were longer than usual, bloody red eyes, and ears that had taken on a rabbit shape. They looked long, sharp and as if they could cut through anything. Marshall separated his legs and gave a loud roar that echoed loudly and shook the ground of the pack house.

“They are nothing like her. Carla is mine. Her scent, her body… her softness. You cannot imagine it, Marsh. You can’t imagine what it’s like to burn for something beyond duty. I burn for her. I ache for her." Marsh gave his soldier and friend- well ex friend- a look of disgust. “You have lost your mind.” He turned, addressing the others with a flick of his hand. “Throw him in the prison below deck. Keep him weak and caged. He will learn the price of betraying the mission.” Two soldiers dragged Divon out, his voice echoing down the metal corridor as he cursed Marsh. Marsh inhaled slowly, collecting himself. He would not let weakness infect him. He was commander, and his goal before the domina

Celeste sat on his other side. “I will start so we can clear the air,” she said. “All three of us have the memories of our past lifetimes now. I worked on Draven whilst you were out in the wilderness. I assume from the question you asked me that you did get all your memories?” “I did,” he said with a sigh. “It was horrible.” He focused on Draven, his former worst enemy. He was dressed in a chest baring red leather outfit as usual, but he felt different.

It showed creatures I'd never seen before, beings that looked almost human but moved wrong, spoke in languages that hurt to hear. "The Outsiders," she explained. "They've been waiting for ages for the right moment to reclaim this world. The Mother's loss was the signal they were waiting for." "Signal for what?" "That the supernatural defenses of this realm are finally weak enough for them to break through." Marcus stepped closer to me, fear clear in his eyes. "How do you know all this?" "Because I've been working for them for years," Dr. Marsh said frankly. "The Mother thought I was helping her, but I was really making sure she'd fail at exactly the right moment."

He was a deeply superstitious man. Marcus was beyond convinced now that the boy was possessed with something. Maybe he was a witch. If not, how could he have known what he did with Jill? Why would the landlord be afraid of him? He still remembered clearly what happened when they went after the boy. Dean had paid for it with his life, and he, Marcus, was lucky to escape with his life.