Scoundrel Sans Novels & Stories

Scion’s words were taunting and sarcastic, and he was going beyond disrespect when he referred to Juste as the ‘wolf prince’. Juste didn’t care about the slur. His mind was quite occupied with their aim at hand to get some southern thorny wolfsbane, a possible ingredient for the Remedium. “So what are you here for? Don’t tell me you’ve given up and want to join me for the search.” Scion laughed hard at Juste’s sarcasm. “I’d be insane if I believe such child’s tale. That book is a worthless piece of sh*t!” Then he spat on the ground.

Greg got the message, because he didn't say anything after. My eyes began to itch. I could tell the tears were gathering up fast. Just in that moment, Freddy walked in. He had some branded club t-shirt on and a duffel bag strapped across his chest. His blonde hair looked damp and disheveled — carefree like he had always been. He walked casually to the dining table, settling into one of the chairs like he couldn't see any of us, his eyes scanning the content of the table — through every plate and glass until they fell on mine.

"I know we need to leave. But would you mind if I...?" "Take your time," he said, rising. "I'll be in my room. Come for me when you're ready." He left, and I was alone with the quiet and the heavy book. I slid it closer, its stiff cover groaning in protest. The first page I turned to held a chillingly precise ink illustration of a "Silent Scourge." The text described a skeletal horror with unnervingly long, scythe-like claws. Though deaf, it could sense the faintest whisper of mana, possessed blinding speed, and had vision that far surpassed any mortal's.

“Joanne said words before she— before she went. Not English. Later, at the cove last night… we found the same words carved into untouched sand. No footprints. No drag marks. Just this.” He reached into his jacket, pulled his phone, fumbled the gallery open. The screen washed his face pale-blue in the tiny dark. He pressed it to the mesh so Frank could see: a crisp photo of the scrawl, a close-up of the letters, the crude RIP above it like a child’s tombstone drawing. “Read it,” Gabe said. “Out loud.” Frank angled closer. “Sulcatum, Rudmalian… Speculum Sacculus Repdetrious.”

Sebastian stares at Scar with a worried look, and somehow that amused her— “I’m Scar. Scar Green,” Scar holds out a hand at Ava, who takes the handshake with nothing but confusion, only to hear Scar adding: “I’m back, for blood.”

Her heart started to thump giddily. “No... No drink, thank you,” Veronica refused, giving him a thin smile as she added deliberately, “I generally, find that alcohol and business don’t mix at all.” Giving a small shrug, Sasha opened the dining-room door for her and waited for Veronica to precede him inside. As she did so, Veronica caught the clean, sharp scent of his freshly showered body and the giddying thump of her vulnerable heart became a frighteningly heavy ache. “I... I’ve brought the estimates down with me,” she told him quickly, lifting the papers she was holding in front of him, but Sasha shook his head.

She has her hair on curly waives that falls right on her shoulders. On the other hand, Annabelle, is demure and had always chose to look simple. She only had to put powder on her fair skinned face. She does not like the feel of those beauty poducts. She finds it heavy and she is really just not just used to it. She also sprays herself with baby cologne every morning and the smell lasts the whole day. Jenny has a glass-like skin with a brown complexion while she has a fair white clear skin tone. She got her looks from her mother who came from a Spanish descent. For her, she and Jenny are like perfect bestfriends complementing each other. “You didn’t wait for me,” Jenny said pouting her mouth.

Serena's POV Dad's brow furrowed. "You'd rather go back to eating scraps than take fifty grand a month?" Donald didn't bother hiding his disgust at my scarred face. "I'm not qualified to protect Miss Ferrari, sir." I sighed. Ever since I got these scars at ten trying to save Bianca, this face had been nothing but a source of revulsion for everyone. Maybe that's why Edward treated me like garbage in our past life too. "Donald! You can't abandon my sister!" Bianca frantically grabbed his arm, trying to pull him to his feet.

Now he is busy gathering support from influential school students, none other than the old kids as his close friends. Submission of application to form this club is not just any. Hoping after gathering support from the best students in the academic world, namely the top five consisting of Carol, William, Sihan and Anthony themselves, this proposal can pass smoothly without obstacles. Sihan was a model student and a role model for students in ethics. Carol is the school's unofficial mascot and public image. Anthony troublemaker, who overwhelmed the school, went awry because in line with his mischief, the school's grades remained superior to the majority of SOPA students. Then William.

"The sculpture in the photo looks quite familiar. It looks like the one that won the grand prize just recently." "Didn't the sculptor say she created the piece based on her sister? Why are there human bones in it? This is so scary." "You should look more closely. That's plaster, not bones! You should go and get your eyes checked. Don't go around spouting nonsense." "Our lovely Layla loves her sister the most. You should show the deceased some respect and watch what you say online." "I'm not trying to pick a fight with anyone, but… Is Layla Larson's sister named Hazel? She was my classmate. Even though she had a physical disability, Hazel had always been an optimistic person. She didn't seem