Shadow Pfp Novels & Stories

he snakes his tongue in excitement as he wriggles his fingers on his handgun “No he’s not, you trigger-happy bastard. Anyways, it’s not weird. There are people blessed with the gift of controlling shadows. I believe they call themselves Shadow” “Interesting. I can’t believe such amazing people exist” he giggles Shane lights another cigarette “They are far from amazing. Back when I was a teen, I took up a job offer to kill a pregnant woman. It should be an easy job I thought but she could control Shadows” he blows out smoke

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Chibuzor Victor Obih was born in the southern part of Nigeria. Delta State to be precise. His writing includes essays, poetry and short stories. He likes to play soccer, read, study and above all, write. He is currently a fourth year student of a renowned public university in Nigeria. The University of Port-Harcourt is where he is pursuing a bachelor's degree in Mechanical Engineering. Shading Black is his first book and his first attempt to explore the beautiful world of a novelist. To stay connected with him and his works, you can follow him on Instagram using the account name: Chibuzor Victor Obih or follow him on Facebook using the account name: Author Chibuzor Victor Obih.

he asked. "No." I deadpanned answered. "Why, are famous?" I asked innocently. "I doubt your famous, you're not even good-looking." His eyes went wide at my words and I swear he looked mad for a moment. I had to stop the urge of biting my lip as those words escaped my lips. Of course he is famous. He is Grey Simons of SHADOW. And he definitely is so handsome. Fuck. He is drop dead gorgeous. But I won't admit that.

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“You’re drooling, Little River.” He teases lightly, and I flush. “Sorry” I murmur, but before he can say anything, something moves beside him and moves towards me as if coming in for a hug. I scream and jump back, only to take a close look… What in the Dr. Facilier shit, is this? Is that his shadow casually coming my way? “I-uh-I…” “Back.” He says, and the shadow seems to deflate sadly and then retreat into his actual shadow.

That he’d be standing a corner, staring into a glass of whiskey, whispering your name like some tragic, love-sick fool? Pathetic. I internally slapped myself and averted my eyes. He doesn’t matter. Not anymore. A Shadow, Not a Name Marcus held no official pack title. He was meant to be Beta — born to be it — but five years ago he stepped away from it. Instead of aligning with the Alpha, he built his own empire and became the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar enterprise. He amassed power in boardrooms rather than on battlefields.

he spits, stepping toward me. A hand grabs onto my arm and gently pulls be backward. Smirnov steps in front of me, blocking Anderson's path to me. He places my boba in my hand and turns back to his friend. "Back off," he tells him, a strange edge to his voice. "What?" Anderson questions, eyes wide. "Back off," he repeats. "You got the reaction you wanted, and it is over now," "She punched me," "You deserved it. Now back the fuck off,"