Salvation Short Story Novels & Stories

Behind him, his men poured in, their weapons lowered and their faces grim. “You killed the demon,” Salvador muttered, almost in a question. Killian swayed around and shrugged, “Yes, he has been sent back to hell, and this time it is for an eternal damnation. Salvador stared at Garam’s headless body for a long moment, then nodded in relief, his shoulders sagging in exhaustion. He raised his head, and his gaze softened when it fell on us. “You two saved everyone here tonight,” he muttered. Killian and I exchanged glances, unable to accept the praise.

“Those that ran off would share the gospel of you being alive and here. We are in more danger not only with the dark walkers but many more, including your father. I'm sure he has heard the news.” “Ohh,” I responded shortly. Arwan looked at me with a gentle grin, “Why did you save me, Melonie?” he asked calmly, “You knew the risks.” “Because I like you,” I retorted. He gawked at me, anxious, “Sorry?” I stared back at him with a serious face, “I said I love you.” His expression turned intense, “You are joking — right?”

But Salvatore, ever vigilant, intercepted the attack, sacrificing himself to protect his newfound ally. The room fell silent as Salvatore collapsed, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and relief. Guida's heart ached as he cradled his fallen comrade, a sense of profound loss washing over him. Salvatore's sacrifice would forever be etched in Guida's memory—a testament to the redemptive power of change.

She seemed to be dying faster. However, he still wanted to believe that there was salvation. Deep in his body, between the ribs and behind his heart, already useless, he wanted there to be salvation for The Carmesim, for then there would be salvation for him.

MY SAVIOR Zara'S POV "Come back!" a voice called out to me. But I ignored the voice and continued running, the misty woods making it difficult to see where I was going. My legs felt heavy and I was gasping for breath. Finally, I collapsed, exhausted. The monster loomed over me, its eyes filled with hatred. "Please, don't kill me," I begged, tears streaming down my face. "Your life belongs to me. You are mine," the monster snarled, baring its teeth.

This thing isn’t lying. However, I still want to know something, so I tilt my head and hit it with the question that’s been running through my mind for a while. “And what do I call this salvation?” The blob extends what looks like an arm and I instantly glance over my shoulder, back at the eerie looking streets. “I want you to look at the faceless here first. Watch them and think if the fate of the entire civilisation is worth saving. If you don’t want to help them, help your own world and don’t let the blood trees blossom.”

Alaya's POV I woke on the soft, mossy mound Henry left me on. The iron tang of blood still rested on my tongue. The horrors of the night came flooding back. The desperate pleas of women and children begging for their lives flooded my mind. It wasn't supposed to be like that. They were supposed to worship me for rescuing them from the moronic leadership of Ralph and his insipid son. The only ones supposed to die were Ralph and Casper and their soldiers.

“Don’t be scared.” “Hubby!” After experiencing extreme hopelessness and helplessness, the joy and excitement from being saved by the person you cared about the most made Sally burst into tears. Her entire body collapsed into his arms. “Hubby, I just knew you would come to save me!” Pinned to the ground by Blair, Wendell spat coldly, “Pfft! He wasn’t even the one who saved you! “Wasn’t it still this little brat who pulled me off? How would that blind husband of yours even be able to see you!”

As I stood my ground, refusing to succumb to his advances, a savior materialized at the door—a man of undeniable allure. "Talia, I desire you. We could create unforgettable memories together," the general manager shamelessly declared, not noticing the arrival of anyone. "I am sorry, but I can't, sir," I replied, my voice quivering with defiance. Little did I know that salvation was about to arrive at my doorstep. "Oh! Long time no see, Brian!" the man's voice carried a hint of familiarity, a lifeline in that perilous moment.

"We saw you on the news! Everyone’s talking about the Red Savior!" I forced my mouth into something resembling a smile and ruffled his hair. "Still kicking, kid. Don't believe everything the TV tells you. I’m out of here tomorrow." "We brought you the good stuff," a girl whispered, shoving a handful of crumpled, colorful hard candies into my palm. "The Don gave them out to celebrate the Savior. We saved the cherry ones for you. They’re the best." The sugar hit my tongue, cloyingly sweet, a stark contrast to the bitter metallic tang that had lived in my throat since the Wall. I hugged them, their small, warm bodies a brief shield against the reality waiting outside.