Slow Burn Glass Novels & Stories

Matteo shouted back, and his voice was cracked with tension but he was still dragging his bad leg along the ledge to find a better stone opening. "We don't have any smoke canisters left because we used the last pair at the highway bridge, so just hold your breath and fire blindly through the gray sheet before that machine gun starts spinning!" I yelled as a burst of tracers punched through the rotten timber ceiling and sent a shower of burning splinters down onto our shoulders. The southern shooters were using special phosphorus bullets that caught the dry wood instantly, and within two minutes the entire eastern corner of the old roof was crackling with a fast orange fire that was dripping

I press the tip against my entrance, the glass slick with anticipation. It slides in easily, the coolness sending shivers through me. I move slowly, my hand trembling slightly as I guide it deeper. Benson's gaze is unwavering, his satisfaction evident as I struggle to maintain control. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice a low growl. "Take it slow. Let me see you enjoy it." I obey, my movements deliberate as I begin to thrust gently. The glass fills me, its smoothness sending waves of pleasure through my body.

he explained and Shadow's eyes widened. "Shame it didn't kill Eros, I would've hit two birds with one stone…" He sighed before grabbing a metal rod and putting it above a burning stove specifically for the purpose of molding glass. The metal would be hot enough yet undamaged, and will keep its shape. "You will be kept here, in this darkness, until Keisha's mission is over." The metal rod turned red and Sebastian lifted it and showed it to Shadow. He could see the old man's evil smile splattered on his wrinkled face.

I staggered and Pelin caught my arm. “Follow my lead!,” I said. “We can do this!” I met her eyes and I knew she felt it. We drew the heat in, the pain, the exhaustion, the fear. We did not fight it. We let it shape us. The sand beneath us began to melt. “Sunburst Core!” we cried together. Light erupted from the ground, ember-golden and blinding. Heat surged outward in a roaring wave. The sand fused into glass beneath our feet. Leo screamed as the flames and shards hit him. Scorpio shrieked as the light burned through his armor.

I giggled. "No that's no- fuck it just do it after." She said and cut off the link. Damn, she must be really furious. "This is going to be fucking interesting." Noah said as he leaned on the wall behind us. "Yeah..." —————————————————— "And this how the system immune is created, any question?" Blaze asked as the girls who he designated to be his assistant, stayed too close to him much to my displeasure. She was touching him, his strong arms. She can't fucking do that!

His hand pressed gently against the cold glass of the window, before sharply recoiling in pain. His amber coloured eyes peered into the darken room and scrutinised the window that bared his way. Ever so slightly etched into the wooden frame and glass panes were faint runes that no mortal eyes would be able to perceive, even if they had been looking for them.

Ciconi Slayers disliked any form of heavy protection and preferred to rely more on teleportation or speed to evade attacks. “Forgive my ignorance, Lord Temujin,” Mr. Olsson said after a star-struck gasp, “but are these lovely cut glass bowls from the renowned glassmakers of the Vulcanus Clan? They’re curiously shallow but no less expressive than a chawan cup. Dare I say you’re exceedingly generous to even consider offering these beauties as a warming gift to me?” “Forget it,” Temujin harrumphed and put the scales back inside his jacket, away from Mr. Olsson’s reaching fingers.

thermal acceleration" —none of which made much sense to me. But as I flipped further into the journal, the entries became more personal. More frantic. {The project is spiraling out of control. We thought we could contain it, but the models were wrong. The simulations were wrong. We’re not prepared for what’s coming.} {The heat is spreading faster than we anticipated. The atmosphere is destabilizing. There’s no stopping it now. God help us all.} My heart began to race as I read the final few entries, the words scrawled hastily, as if the person writing them had been in a panic. {The Burning is inevitable. We’ve failed. There’s nothing left but survival.}