Rose Of Death Novels & Stories

"She deserved it! She was so terrified with the rabid dogs barking all around her, even sending a voice message where she was crying so pathetically!" Hearing that, my departed soul turned away, smiling miserably. He was the one who had said he loved me, promising to protect me for the rest of my life and vowing that no one would get to lay a finger on me. He had smiled at me so lovingly when he passed me the black rose seeds. "It is believed that black roses embody a deep and timeless love, just like the love I share with you." Yet, he had a change of heart and loved Lara instead, believing her one-sided claims that I had led a workplace ostracising campaign against her.

"You’re clever, cara mia. I’ll give you that." Her stomach dropped. He stepped into the light, shadows dancing across his face. "Alonso Delgado never made it past his twentieth birthday. I did." She couldn’t breathe. "What?" He moved closer, until the poker nearly touched his chest. "I’m Esteban. Esteban Gallego." The name struck her like lightning. The Gallegos; rivals of the Delgados. Ruthless. Vicious. Responsible for the massacre in Medellin.

I sharply commanded the driver, who also had a black mask on. The car lurched forward roughly as the driver pumped the accelerator lever. I cocked my gun and fired two shots in the air from the window. Then with a satisfied grin, I leaned back into the cushion of the car. The smell of cigarette was thick in the car as everyone was nursing a stick. I glanced at the unconscious girl's face, she was an half caste. I could tell from her skin colour, which was copper colored, and her long curly hair. I positioned her well so that her head was on my laps. It gave me the opportunity to study her facial profile well.

The blood in Roses, an organization built and funded by Harry just so he could enact his long plot of revenge. An organization that took several lives, both within and outside the organization, an organization that strives to reach medical and technological advancements, not for the good of the country, but to be used and facilitated for his sole desire to seek revenge against his brother.

"I wish I put that bullet through his fucking skull myself!" I inhaled shakily, reminding myself that getting angry in such a situation would only get me killed. The driver and the rest of the men in the car seemed to find my brother's death to be just as funny. Like he was nothing... no one deserves to die in such a manner, not even these tobacco-infused bastards! "You know what this means?" He dug the gun deeper into the side of my face, so deep I knew it would bruise afterward. "It means The Black Rose are no longer invisible!"

“That’s how you survived. The Moonrose. Tell me—what does it actually do?” He gave a dry chuckle, pride bleeding through his ancient voice. “The roses come in pairs. I have the white one. Kiran has the black—far more powerful, but dangerous. Like soulmates, these roses are bound. Mine has kept me alive. More than that—I am the rose now. I don’t just use its power. I am its vessel.” Without another word, I unsheathed my blade and sliced my palm. Blood welled and dripped into the ceremonial bowl. Rhaegos, resigned, did the same. Our blood swirled together—ancient, powerful, defiant.

Demetria’s bones were mysteriously broken, like a twig snapped into tiny pieces. And her whole body was like a carrion. No. It was not like a carrion. It was absolutely a carrion. It was as if the Black Peruvian Rose drained every inch of life and every ember of existence from Demetria Cruise. She can no longer be identified. Perhaps even how many multiple autopsies will be conducted, no one will know the cause of her death. “Hmm, it’s really true to what the Blood Mistress said. The Black Peruvian Rose can definitely kill and suck out the life of heathens, vampires, and werewolves...”

"She sees the future. She isn't what you remember." Rosie steps close to the tip of the stairs and looks down at us like she's deciding if we're worth the effort to stomp. "Leave," she says. "Before I change my mind." "You don't belong here," Xylus pleads, falling to his knees, voice shaky. "You belong to us-" "You belong to death," Rose replies, and the word slaps him like a physical thing. "Don't make yourself look more foolish in front of all these people!"

"That I'm a soul that has wondered the earth for over one thousand years. I've seen, heard and even touched the worst kinds of things huminity has come across. Mona dear I have seen you. You since well your growing days. Your love sick days. You, Sire and Mury have been my sense of entertainment for a while." Mona backed away. Almost tripping and falling on the process. "What are you?" "I am Rose. Nothing else and nothing more. I am human. At least I was once. Now I'm a soul trapped in a body of a girl who was never born. I'm like you I never got my happy ending. So I took revenge on all those who I thought took it from me. But that just left me with nothing. I don't want that again. So

I smiled and held it to raise my eyes evenly red with this rose. It’s not bad to make my symbolism sharp arrows again. Where on the night most awaited of all, my rose will kill the life of whoever hurts my loved one. Cluster of bloody roses in cluster of sharp arrows that will soon be covered with blood. Wait for the return of the dear princess with her lifelong symbolism that I will embrace until death.