Sound And Fury Graphic Novel Novels & Stories

When he already put the heart inside the box, the guy holding it secure the box by locking it then left. He looked again to the guy lying on the ground. “Clean my mess,” he ordered his men while looking so happy. “Yes sir!” all of his men chorused in answering. He walked towards his seat and got the notebook on his desk. He then walked again to the place where Vincent died. He slowly let his fingers cross to the blood on the floor. He smelled it first then used his blood to mark “X” on Vincent’s face on his list. “Vincent Finesse… dead,” he said while smiling then he licked his fingertips. He even closed his eyes while tasting the blood from Vincent’s dead body.

Sensory overload was something Vin dealt with on the daily, but that was nothing compared to what he was going through now. Vin couldn’t filter the noise anymore. At his side, Callie flinched and screamed with every bullet that hit the old metal of their borrowed truck. Outside, enemies yelled and fired their guns at them. Engines roared over the scratch of tires against the loose gravel, and each sound grated at Vin’s senses. He couldn’t think, and to top it all off, his thigh had started to hurt. Just his fucking luck.

A knife. She felt it slice her back again and again. Her breath became ragged. She didn’t want to pass out now. Not when Bryan was not yet safe. After the fourth slice, she finally had the chance to breathe. She gritted her teeth but the pain in her back now was way past endurance. She was strong, yes, but this was just too much. “This will keep you off my path at least for the next few years. See you next time, bitch.” Yolanda said, entering her car. Lauren could only stare at the cars driving off as the tears that formed her eyes dropped

CHAPTER 45 — BLOOD OF MY BLOOD, ASH OF MY ASH (Full-Length | 2,000+ words | High-tension, emotional, brutal, explosive) The ringing in Riven’s ears was a solid, disorienting wall of noise. It swallowed everything—the fire, the collapsing steel, and the echo of the explosion still rippling out into the night. Smoke burnt his lungs as he pushed himself up on shaking arms, coughing hard enough to taste blood.

Quenten Yilmaz: Blood. Violence. Gut-wrenching, paralyzing screams. They follow me everywhere, including in my sleep. It’s like a reel of snippets flashing before my very eyes. Splatters of blood paint the walls. Screams of terror intertwine and become a single, continuous harmony of devastation that rings in my ears. Flashing balls of light ignite in the dark as illuminated bullets slice through the air, hitting everything in their path. Men drop to the ground swiftly, followed by a hush of silence.

"Didn't you hear me fucker? I said they were surprised to see me there." "That was our only shot at talking to the people on the inside. Are you fucking daft?" "No fucker, but I'll make you daft if you keep questioning me." "Will you two shut the fuck up already?" Lucky shouts. "Fuck you!" They both yell back. I close my eyes at the loud noises and shouting. Images appear in my mind of the day everything went wrong. Loud guns A large deafening blast. The sound of gunfire echoing around me. The bodies.

"Big words from a man trapped in my ward." "Trapped?" I grin wider, my fangs flashing. "This little light show? It tickles." The New Order members—eighteen of them, all in their stupid black-and-red robes—raise their sonic devices in unison. The sound hits me like a hammer to the skull. I double over with a grunt, pain exploding behind my eyes, my ears ringing. My bones vibrate like they're about to shatter, my vision going black. It fucking burns. I sway, gritting my teeth, fighting the pull at my consciousness.

,she whimpers sadly as her hand holding the gun shakes. "I can be what she is Jonathan, she is pleading, I can be all that and more. Just add me and I swear if after a month you still feel the same I will leave and never come back",Fury is pissed as he growls at me. We add her we lose Kat and I don't want to lose her Jonathan he says growling.

My mouth moves, but no sound comes. Back to dark. Now it’s raining. I stand barefoot on a flooded street. Neon smears across puddles. A wolf’s shadow runs ahead of me — Jerry’s. His eyes glow red. I call his name, but he’s gone, swallowed by fog. Levin’s voice rises again, strained and ragged. “You think I’ll give you her son?” A fist lands. Flesh hits flesh. My stomach twists. Blood sprays like ink in water. “Stop,” I whisper, hands over my ears. But the sound won’t stop.

Inside the Grand Hall, the sudden, violent detonation on the western ridge did not arrive as a distant sound, but as a physical shockwave that rattled the gothic windows in their lead casings. On the heavy oak table, Fiona’s scrying map went entirely wild. The pool of pristine glen water rippled violently against the ancient vellum, and the shifting, smoky ink suddenly flared with a brilliant, blinding white light. A second later, a miniature pillar of real smoke and a localized spark of static electricity snapped off the parchment, smelling strongly of ozone and burning fuel.