Scissor Seven Thirteen Novels & Stories

Sebastian said and punched the floor with his hand as he looked helplessly at his dying men. His people are continuously dying and his brother is in his enemy's claws. Triangles are far more dangerous than scars but no citizen knows about them. They are a mysterious gang with a mysterious leader. Do we even stand a chance against them? I closed my eyes when the men in Sebastian's arms stopped breathing. He is dead. Sebastian closed his eyes with his hand and laid him down on the floor as he stood up. He clenched his hands in a fist and twisted his neck. "If they want a war then let the war begin," Sebastian said and picked up his man as he threw his body on his shoulder and looked at us.

He ran to me, panting heavily, but his eyes were shining with an unusually bright light. It was a light I hadn't seen in his eyes for a very long time. A light mixed with nervousness, anticipation, and even a bit of boyish anxiety. He pulled the velvet box from his sea-sprayed jacket and snapped it open. Then, he dropped to one knee. "Chloe." "It's been seven years. Thank you for walking these seven years with me." "I know I haven't been good enough, that I've put you through a lot. But please believe me, from this day forward—"

I nod, “Since I have to be visible, I’ll assign myself to their tables and make vague comments. But we have to give them a chance to get me alone and allow them to strike.” He nods. “That’s why we need everyone to come in and plan this carefully.” As soon as he walks away, my mind keeps spinning with possible plans. There are so many things to consider. Within the hour, every Assassin within the vicinity is once again sitting at the conference table. I look around with amazement; Priest, Corbin, Dragon, Stryker, Cameron, Jaxon’s niece, Valkyrie, a Scotsman who is ironically named Scotty, Phanthom and Heathen join our group. Phantom is the strong, quiet type, while Heathen is a loud, rugged c

I screamed. He was taken aback upon seeing me with no control. Mad. F*cking mad. Out of my sanity. I stepped forward as he stepped back. “You... you f*cking, Silva. You f*cking call me a f*cking bitch! I am no slut, nor a wh*re! I am just a bad f*cking bitch who beats men *sses and not f*cking and sucking and riding their f*cking d*cks!” I shout and threw the glass of wine towards him. The glass shattered as his blood drops. The broken glass cut his arms.

He smirked, this was somehow fun. Mariam was showing off with her acrobatic skills, her small body allowed her move easily. She bounced off the chest of one, knocking him to the ground and twisted in the air aiming for another, she dug two small knives on either sides of his neck and retrieved the two swords which she had left in the chest of two men now lying dead on the floor, she yelled with each strike she made and without missing, twisting and turning to avoid fatal blows. She had six men down by her swords and only a few more to go. She was excited, she was angry and she was vengeful. She gripped the swords in both hands tightly, there was a pause from both parties which only lasted le

It was almost like my brain was playing games with me. I was still secured in position by the arms of that stranger. I heard a sound of a soft swipe , then a beep and a pop sound that sounded like the notification for the completion of a process. My head was heavy. Even though I couldn't see anything, I still struggled to keep my eyes open. I wanted to tug myself free, but I found myself leaning more into the warmth of his arms. I found myself slowly wanting to be trapped forever in the moment. I felt a scratching patch roughen the edges of my throat.

Back to the time I foolishly believed he was loyal to me? I was practically dragged to the operating room by Gavin. I held the cold scalpel in my hand. My hand was steady—a professional instinct, even though my body was so weak I could barely stand. Sofia lay on the table, unconscious from the anesthesia. As the nurse cut away her gown, revealing her chest, my scalpel stopped dead. Just below her collarbone, near her heart, was a black tattoo. It was a blooming black rose entwined with a dagger—the sigil of the Whitestone matriarch.

Her whole being was focused on Elara with a predator's intensity. She placed the chest on the bedside table and opened it. Inside, on black velvet, was a dagger. Its blade was made of black glass, wickedly curved and etched with runes that seemed to drink the light. The air grew colder. "It's alright, my dear," Cordelia crooned, lifting the dagger. Its surface seemed to swirl with captured shadows. "The pain will be brief. Your strength will not be lost. It will find a new, more worthy home. It will pass to me, where it was always meant to be."

Toronto, Canada Quinn POV Amongst the twenty-two women here, I only get along with Sarah. When I arrived she was so sweet and welcoming that I felt it was suspicious, it wasn't until a week and a half ago that she told me she had been crushing on Archie, one of the seven sins. Once a talk that relates to the seven brothers comes into our conversation, she can't keep her mouth shut any longer and rambles on about Archie all day long. She knew I was sent here by Ace and because of the few news she got from the United States she thought I was dating Ace only and that we both would become wives of the Luthers once Archie noticed here. Her so much love for Archie made it so difficult for me to br

The sucker grabbed my hand and pulled me close to him once more, and he just won’t let go. “Stop pretending, Seven. You were not like this when he was kissing you earlier. Or would you play the victim card now that the boss is here?” Thirteen… This bitch wants to end me. For real. She wants me dead. “S… shut the fuck up, Thirteen. No one would think you’re deaf if you are quiet.” I scream at the top of my voice, but the stranger only squints dangerously at our joined hands. I try to wriggle my way out of the jerk’s grasp, but he still won’t let me go.