Ruins Dust Sans Novels & Stories

I caught my reflection in the mirror and stopped dead, I have never looked this horrific, my hair was a mess and clothes were ruined stained with whatever disgusting filth on that warehouse floor. Ewwwwww I ran to the bathroom, desperately needing a cold shower to take this out of my system, when my hand traced my lips, ughhhhhh, now I also need to scrub every trace of him on my lips. It took me twenty minutes but I feel much more human now, my hands lightly touch my head and I could feel the bruise that would appear if I don’t place some ice on it, wrapping a towel I quickly changed into a simple silk dress and I opened the door just to hit a solid wall of muscle “ what the fuck? Move out m

I breath out. “Anything for Darian.” He says. I slowly push myself on my feet, testing my body. I feel no pain or stiffness. No sign that minutes ago, the cuts and bruises I acquired from trying to escape, and from Liam dragging me across the rocky grounds, were there. Darian gestures for me to follow, and I fall into step beside him as we leave. The corridors of Supraveil stretch endlessly. Stone arches curve overhead, carved with ancient symbols that glow faintly like dying stars. The floors beneath our feet are plain black marble, reflecting our movements in distorted ripples.

The Ruins of Fate The ruins loomed before them, skeletal remains of a forgotten era thrust upward from the earth. Crumbling stone pillars, draped in thick vines and moss, stood like silent sentinels, their surfaces pitted by time. The air was heavy, saturated with the rich, loamy scent of damp soil and the faint rot of decay. It pressed against Aria’s skin as she stepped into the clearing, a cloying shroud that made her breath catch. Beneath her boots, the ground yielded, soft mud sucking at her soles with each careful step. The faint light of dawn struggled through the dense canopy overhead, splintering into long, wavering shadows that danced across the uneven stones. Beside her, Caden move

Seeing that Grandpa and Grandma looked sleepy, I took the hint and got ready to go, but instead of heading home, I hid nearby. Sure enough, less than twenty minutes later, a stretch Lincoln pulled up. Surrounded by attendants, Grandpa and Grandma got in and didn’t even glance back. I exhaled, slipped on a mask, and walked up to the building. Cleaning ladies were sweeping up. One of them muttered, “They only show up here once a year, cook a meal, and then leave.” “Yeah,” another added. “They pay a ton to have this place cleaned up for just a few hours. Word is, they’ve got a mansion in Southbridge. This is all just for show.”

The echoes are still there, waiting, and they’ll be louder than ever when we return. 🖤 Echoes of Ruin resumes January 1st.

Abigail shouted. She had someone to open a box. "I fixed your suit. At least take a look!" I glanced at it briefly. The torn areas of the suit had been mended with gold thread, but the once-refined design was completely ruined and looked gaudy. "I already said that I don't want it. No matter how much I once liked something, once it's damaged, it's ruined," I said. I looked at her coldly. "Abigail, I don't love you anymore. I'm Grace's fiance. Please show some respect from now on."

The ash did not settle; it hovered, a suspended grey shroud that tasted of burnt history and dead miracles. Audrey stood at the epicenter of the ruin, her lungs burning with every breath of the soot-choked air. Beside her, Lucas stood with his weight shifted to his heels, his one hand white-knuckled around the hilt of a rusted infantry sword. The silence following the collapse of the World-Oak was not peaceful. It was the heavy, pressurized silence that precedes a landslide.