The Black Dahlia Romane & Geschichten

Is it something bad? I pressed my ear to it, but nothing. After a while of staring at it, I finally decided to open it. However, what I found inside, rendered me speechless… Inside were black dahlias. Elegant and ominous at the same time, a black card was attached with it. ‘You refused my deal. Now watch how fast the world burns — Alexander Veyrek.’ My eyes stared, frozen at the flowers, dumbfounded and shocked. What the bloody—!?

“I was only eleven when Dahlia kidnapped me. She held me for two weeks. She was always drunk when she came to meet me. She tied me in ropes and then whipped me, beat me and when she was not done, she would straddle me with me on my belly and carve her husband’s name on my back with a knife. She wanted to send a message to my father that what he did bore severe consequences. She didn’t give me food, or use the toilet. She wasn’t bothered that I was so young. All she cared about was getting to my father—killing him. Dahlia had no idea that every second I spent in the cold basement of her house, I plotted how to kill her. “My father tried to negotiate with her. He wondered if she had taken me f

Dahlia chose the gallery because it was neutral ground. She checked the list through a contact on Tuesday. She arrived at ten past seven, and waited holding a glass of wine she did not intend to drink. Lena arrived at eight, in grey, and moved through the first room the way she moved through everything, unhurried and entirely awake, and Dahlia watched her clock the room in about four seconds and then, at the end of the four seconds, find her. "Dahlia." she nodded at her

"What is it doctor?" "Dahlia is having serious deficiency in iron. I don't know if you noticed the symptoms but she's facing difficulties in breathing. She's anemic. Her red blood cells are so low. I'll place her on an iron supplement and dietary plan. But i advise a blood transfusion as soon as possible. I also noticed she's an AB negative. That's a rare blood type, ma'am." I stopped hearing his voice, my eyes filled with tears. How is this possible? Dahlia eats healthy food. How can she be anemic to the point where she needs a blood transfusion? An Ian is the one with the AB negative blood type. I'm doomed.

Her words rang in my ear, and I felt numb… ----- DANE The moment Dahlia sat down, her eyes glazing over, I panicked. Crouching by her, I wondered what she was going through. Did she remember something? I didn’t disturb her, simply holding her hand tenderly. Her palms were still covered with scars. Her chest heaved with panic, and I had the urge to snap her out of it when she suddenly slumped forward. I caught her turning her in my arms. Her face looked pale, her eyes shut.

"Wait, what is that?" "It's mine." A wave of anger began to build in Dahlia's chest as she snatched the book away. Before her mother died, Elsie had made her promise to keep it safe. Even though she had no clue what was inside, she was determined to keep it away from this woman. "I only want to peek," Dahlia snapped, taking a look at the book. It was a brown leather diary with a photo of a pacifier on the cover. She was about to return the book when a white piece of paper fell from it.

She embraced the doll that Nathalia gave her, because she finds comfort in it whenever she is afraid, which she is all the time. Dahlia's mother was dressed in a black long-sleeved dress, scarlet stilettos, and her hair was carefully done into a bun. Her lips were as red as blood, and she was really going for a stunning look since she was going out to dinner with Grace's wealthy friends. Dahlia would never say no to Grace's invitation to an expensive dinner. Dahlia has been acting as Grace's friend for two weeks now. She couldn't help but giggle inside her head at Grace's naivety, at how she couldn't even see the red flags.

Witches can’t be trusted. “Its about time you all got here,” a voice called out. We all looked up to see Dahlia descending from the sky. “I was starting to think you all chickened out.” Her boot clad feet hit the snow and she gave us a smile. She was clad in a knee-length, light brown fur coat with fishnet stockings. Her long hair was neatly bundled at the back of her head and her makeup was perfect, as always. “Dante,” she acknowledged. “Dahlia.” I responded.

"We need to search her room here and find out where else she might have gone in the days before her death." As they prepared to examine Lily's living space, Casie felt her phone vibrate with an incoming call. The screen displayed "Unknown Caller," but something, perhaps her newly enhanced instincts, told her to answer. "Detective Blackwood," she answered, stepping away from the group. "Detective." The voice was distorted, deliberately masked by some kind of modulation. "I understand you're looking for me." A chill ran down Casie's spine. "Who is this?" "You know who it is." The artificial voice carried a hint of amusement. "You're standing in a shelter full of children asking questions about

Alan bared his teeth in my mind just as the light I had always felt around and inside Ina was flickering, snuffed out by the weight Dahlia had dumped on her already weak shoulders. Still, a dry, rattling chuckle cut through the heavy silence of the dungeon. “She hasn’t even heard the best part yet.” Dahlia muttered, her chuckle growing into the kind of laughter that unleashed the kind of anger I had never felt before. I snapped my head up, my burning eyes locking onto Dahlia. She was slouched against the cold wall, her bloody lips curved into a sick, triumphant smirk as she watched my mate's collapse. She looked entirely spent, her own eyes half-closed, yet she was gloating as if she had jus