Skullgirls Eliza Novels & Stories

Jane greeted a certain group as we arrived at their table. A girl and two guys were already seated. They all exchanged greetings while I merely watched. “So, you're the new girl...” One of the boys said, eyeing me intently. “Not bad.” “Hey! What do you mean, not bad? She is freaking gorgeous.” The Asian girl said, her English was way too good to be Asian. “Hi, Elia, I'm Kira.” She knew my name? Jane introduced the boys. Drey, the calm one, simply nodded at me, while the sharp-tongued one was Wesley.

Relief flooded me. “Elara,” I said, my voice tight with urgency. “We need to get the Duke out of here. Can you lead us to a safe exit?” Elara, her dark eyes flitting nervously between me and Spencer, hesitated for a moment. Then, with a determined nod, she darted deeper into the tunnels, weaving through the darkness like a phantom. We followed, carefully carrying the Duke’s unconscious form. The air grew thick and stale, the only sound the rhythmic dripping of water and the rasping breaths escaping the Duke’s lips. Every creak and groan of the ancient mine sent shivers down my spine.

The girl was barefooted and based on the way she looked; she must have spent the night with the damn owner of the room. “I’m An—” I stuttered. “I mean Eliza, I am Eliza.” My heart wouldn’t stop galloping. I never knew what jealousy was until that point. “Who’s in there?” Yulian’s voice came inside the room. “Hey, Clarissa? I said who’s in there.” His face came into view behind the girl. The shock was written in his eyes seeing me. “It’s your Eliza,” Clarissa answered looking at me with a bemused smile.

Then it lunged—not at her, but through her—and vanished in a shimmer of silver. The air stilled. Every student stared. Layla's bones cooled and a shiver ran through her. Vale’s expression was carved from stone. “Miss Demetriou. The Headmistress will see you. Now.” Layla rose on trembling legs, ignoring the whispers, the fear. Her sleeve hiked up as she gathered her things, throwing her bag over her shoulder—and Theo’s eyes widened. “Your wrist,” he breathed. A faint silver crescent shimmered against her skin, glowing softly. Damon caught sight of it too, his jaw tightening.

Eliza raises an eyebrow, then inclines her head, “You think she’s capable of taking on a trained assassin.” That wasn’t a question, “Interesting. If she’s game, I’ll give it a go.” She turns to Celine, “You want to test your skills?” She looks up at George, “I promise no damage, light taps only.” He nods, and looks at Celine “Your call, Baby.” She smirks and nods, “Sure, I use a bo-staff though.” Eliza nods and stands; she goes to a bag and rifles through it pulling out two staves. She clicks them together making a bo-staff equivalent. Celine nods appreciatively,

But could they truly overcome the betrayals that awaited them? Just as she began to surrender to her spiraling thoughts, a figure approached her—Eliza, a young crew member with auburn curls and wide, earnest eyes that flickered with hesitation. Despite the buzz of laughter around them, the expression on Eliza's face drew Amelia's full attention. She felt the familiar pang of concern, and for a moment, the world around them faded into silence.

Before she knew it, Eliza found herself in a lonely corner, she had a weird feeling. "Uhm, where is your dad?” She asked the girl. "Hehe,” the girls cute laughter suddenly morphed into an evil one. She brought a syringe out of her puffy dress, and before Eliza could react, the syringe was already in her thighs, and she passed out. *** Eliza woke up, but she struggled to open her eyes as they were just too heavy. As she was finally able to open her eyes, the rush of light gave her a reminder of her pounding headache.

I still can’t believe I am back into the den of the same people who devoured my future without mercy. Seconds later, I find a spot at the fringes and I perch there. The scent of wet earth and decaying flowers assaults my nostrils, but I endure the sting. There are mourners clustered in their black attires and paying their respects. Just then, I spot Eliza immediately. She is dressed in black, her golden blonde hair cascading down her back in perfect waves, her body curves accentuated by the form-fitting black dress that looks like it is worth over thousands of dollars.

Today's show was the "battle of encirclement" Eliza, who was standing in front of the camera, was dressed in ragged red. The whip in her hand was stained with the blood of her peers. Her high ponytail, which had been tied up all this time, was now scattered. A few strands of her hair were blown up by the wind and fell back to her cheeks. She lowered her eyes, looking indifferent and sarcastic. In the blink of an eye, Eliza got into her role. Now, she was Ingrid.

“I’m not losing you, Callie.” “You won’t,” I tell him, but I feel like I’m lying. I didn’t know it was possible to feel your body shutting down, but that’s exactly what’s happening right now as the virus courses through me. “I thought you killed the demon.” Eliza crosses her arms tightly over her chest. Her hair is up in a fancy braid again, one so elaborate Daenerys Targaryen herself would be jealous. Her dress is pale pink with little flowers hand-stitched along the hem. She really is pretty.