Sant'eustachio Novels & Stories

The gates fell soon after. There was a mad rush to enter the city of Muzagah and destroy every living human. Having being in suspense for hours; anticipating and visualizing what they desired: the rape and the sharing of treasures; they drove in furiously into Muzagah with the intention to kill and destroy properties. Suddenly, the sound of a trumpet filled their ears. It was a signal to stop. Prince Habeb had ordered a trumpeter to send the desperate soldiers his message. It wasn’t yet time for the killing game to begin.

But Alpha — Alpha stared east, unblinking. Ellie noticed. “You’re restless.” Alpha gave a low sound, almost a growl, but not for danger here — for something further, something calling. The horizon swam with faint lightning no storm had birthed. Ellie gripped her mug tighter. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I feel it too.” The Devil’s Mirror – Munich Museum of Antiquities After hours, the museum was silent — but not still. The great slab of Venetian glass, veined black through its silver surface, hummed faintly in the dark. A guard making his rounds stopped and frowned at the noise.

With a stuttering motion, she turned to her right side —looking at Loui's back which seemed to be drifting away along with his large hand that was tightly gripping Irina's curvaceous fingers. Her heart was beating irregularly — it felt like she was being squeezed by a solid object, even her breath was gasping for holding back the many things that filled her chest since she had been deaf to hear all of Irina's words as well as the surprising words of a Loui Argent.

The Sanctuary of the First Chord was a sprawling, 18th-century estate nestled in the terraced hills of the Douro. It looked like a paradise—rows of ancient vines, white stone walls, and the scent of blooming jasmine. But as they approached the perimeter, the air began to hum. It was a low, subsonic frequency that made the glass of the windshield vibrate. "Stop," Jian commanded. "If you cross that line, the resonance will trigger a seizure."

My pussy, wait not even my pussy, that thing can't fit my mouth. “ You can stop staring now, Samantha!” Maximo shouts before he smirks at me. Santino however, marches forward, one foot in front of the other. I look around. “ Don't even think about it or I will burn you alive!” Maximo yells. Santino in all his naked glory makes it near me and I can't control my eyes. Near, it looks even more huge than it did where he was standing. My jaw drops. “ Try what you did again, and I will let you fall to your death,” He growls, his sapphire eyes chilling me down. His voice is sharper than any edge, and I can feel it cutting me down.

Soon an intercum crackles over head and a woman's monotone of voice filled the room. " Isabella smith?" the voice asked. She nodded shakily. " Age? " E- Eighteen" she felt like crying. " Where were you born?" Spain" N-New York" she stuttered. There was another pause. " Approximately how many times have you had sexual intercourse?" taking a deep calming breath she answered." I- I'm a virgin" there was a long pause as she stared into the mirror at her trembling figure. " The auction is about to take place stay quiet and do as your told". She frowns as confusion flooded through her mind when suddenly blinding lights where turned on brightening the dark room.

We visited the art galleries which showed the collection of black and white photographs of the city over the decades. The two most worth paying a visit places here are the Basilica di San Lorenzo at the top of Corso di Porta Ticinese and Basilica Sant Eustorgio near the bottom of the street. I dragged Marc down with me as I wanted to see it eagerly, as this is an Architectural potpourri of styles from restorations over the last sixteen century and is fascinating outside as well as inside.

Sanchiano Private Clinic, Southern Italy – Morning The antiseptic scent in the private wing of the Sanchiano estate clinic did little to ease the tension in the air. The walls were painted a soft ivory, a futile attempt to make the place feel less clinical, less like a place where life and death made quiet wagers. Gianna’s cries echoed faintly down the hall.

He swiftly got up from the stool, like an excited little boy. I stared blankly at him, my head following him around as he almost ran out of the room. About five minutes after he rushed out, I saw him walk backwards into the room. He seemed to be looking at something. My speculations were confirmed when two male servants walked in behind him. They were struggling to bring in what looked like a big wooden chair. “Just hold it straight and it will pass through”, he said tiredly. The other two men exchanged confused glances before going ahead to try bringing the chair in the same way they had been trying before.

So much made sense, and all bad thoughts of his mother disappeared. He nodded. “My siblings have hated me for not only being the child of a mistress, but because our father gave me his name. I’ve gone by Domenico since I was six, unable to stand being called Giovanni. Then started using Mancini as my last name when I was eighteen.” “That’s why you command so much respect.” Santiago had called him sir. At the time I thought it was odd, but there was too much going on to think on it for long.