Smoke Tv Show Novels & Stories

Where's mother? Where's Dusk and Luna? Panic flashed through Smoke as she realized her mother hadn't returned for her. She wasn't expecting to wake up alone. When she had, she found herself back in that same den she had woken up in a few days ago. Back when that strange cat was telling her off. Smoke was still fuming over the fact that he didn't think she was worth much. He'd called her a worthless waste of herbs, and worse names. To make matters even worse, the wounds she had received earlier weren't recovering like she was hoping.

The room was cloaked in a chilly atmosphere, punctuated by wisps of cigarette smoke swirling from the lips of a middle-aged man seated at its center, his exhalations blending with the air around him. A fire place crackled by the side, its flame providing an angry red glow on the wall. He dragged the cigarette to his cold lips once again and puffed out balls of smoke. His eyes were fixed on the television before him, it carried news of a destruction in a warehouse, one of Emilio's warehouse.

It was faint and I could hardly pick up on what it was, so I ended taking a deep breath more than thrice until I finally figured it out. Smoke… “Why do I smell smoke?!”

Tyrese asked, standing still in the dark. “Yes,” Mr. Creed muttered. “It is time.” ….. Tyrese pressed a button. On Mr. Creed’s screen, the camera flickered and then showed inside the quiet house. A faint line of smoke slipped out from the kitchen corner. The gas knob, after a small shake, suddenly turned on by itself. Seconds passed and the smoke expanded. A small spark lit up near the stove. Then Boom! Flames burst out. Fire rushed up the kitchen wall. As it swept through the kitchen, fast and wild.

The prairie is every bit as dangerous as the sea, and here, sharks hide in every shadow. The scent of smoke hits my lungs, and I slow, lifting my head to take a deep breath. Something is on fire. I come to a stop and inhale a few more times. The scent of burning timber registers. This isn’t a grass fire. It smells like the forest after a lightning strike. But there is no forest near us. It has to be a structure fire. Another whiff brings the milder scent of burning leather–and then a fainter note of fur and flesh. “What is that?” Kan asks through the mind-link.

He all but pushed Cassy out of the chair to start controlling the cameras and started flying through the different feeds. I tried not to hyperventilate as I walked up beside him, trying not to get disoriented by how quickly he was flipping through the images. "What are you looking for?" I asked. "Smoke," he said, without taking his eyes off the screen or slowing down. "They are thinking something about smoke... over and over. I think they are trying to tell us something. Cassy gasped from the window and said, "Look."

Just as everyone was about to raise their guns, she threw a smoke bomb! In an instant, the screen was engulfed in a thick white fog! "Smoke bomb! She found a smoke bomb!" Someone in the audience excitedly shouted. Then, several gunshots were heard. The electronic screen of one of the contestants displayed the word "game over." After the smoke cleared, Diana had already escaped the encirclement and claimed a kill! "Damn! She made it out!" "Damn, Diana is amazing! This is a counterattack from the brink!" "Her speed and reflexes are incredible! I'm in awe!"

A mockery or two wouldn't hurt. A tornado of smoke burst in from the ceiling. The smoke was orange with a hue of black and the current of the tornado had no force. The smoke broke apart, spreading out all over the room and enveloping us in a cloud of orange smoke. The smoke smelt like orange blossom and apricot. It was somewhat pleasant. The smoke made Kira and Jerry cough, but it positively affected me.

"HAVEN!" My scream rips through the choking smoke, raw and useless. No answer comes back, only the hungry roar of flames and the distant, brutal clash of combat somewhere deeper in the haze. The smoke isn't normal. It's thick, oily, purple-black instead of honest grey. It tastes like sulfur and rot on my tongue. Dark magic. The kind that burns hotter, meaner, and clings to skin like poison. Donovan's hand clamps around my forearm, iron-hard.

I stood there in the middle of the smoke cloud with Maya, staring at all four of them crowded in the doorway like some kind of awkward intervention. "It was supposed to be a surprise," I said, trying to hold onto whatever dignity I had left. "It is a surprise," Sebastian said, coughing a little. "Just... not the good kind." "Sebastian," I warned, pointing the spoon at him. "It smells like the inside of a chimney," Eli added flatly. "ELI," I snapped. Maya quietly opened the window above the sink. The smoke started drifting out. The detector finally shut up after what felt like ten years of pure humiliation.