The Chestnut Man Novels & Stories

As soon as I had my back against the door, my chest heaved in relief, but it was yet again short-lived. The room was dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of whiskey and leather. A man lounged on a massive bed, his shirtless chest gleaming in the low light but that wasn't what caught my breath. There was a slender, half-naked lady beneath him who was struggling for her life. Her pleas were muffled, almost coming off as moans. Nonetheless, the shirtless guy didn't budge. A glass of amber liquid dangled lazily from his hand while the other was strangling the life out of her!

The interior had a very cozy feel and Margaret suddenly wished she could live there. Margaret caressed the hand-polished wood on the bed she was seated on. The horses suddenly began to whinny outside, making the two women stiffen and rise. “Someone is out there.” Margaret whispered. “Who can it be?” The cottage door pushed inward and a large shadow stepped inside. In the pale glow of the fireplace, Margaret found herself staring at something out of a nightmare. It was a man, the largest man she had ever seen. Tall and broad of shoulder, weather-beaten and rugged of face, long unkempt hair and bearded, a large groundskeeper’s axe in hand, he wore a cloak made from bearskin.

Knowing that he is near, I hide in the bush waiting for him to return. Hearing movement just to the side a few minutes later, I watch as a tall dark man with dark brown hair and big strong arms walks into the clearing by the fire. The problem is that I must stifle a scream when I see what is on his chest. There are 5 bloody feet from pups on his necklace.

"No, I don't think so. His uncle can't even handle me, so do you think Joel would even give him the time of the day? Hilarious." Those words made Chester flush an ugly shade of purple. However, he remained silent. It seemed like Maniac was right then. Wilbur chuckled. "Hear that, Chester? You don't have the right to be making just about anyone's money, got it?" "I'm going to get going." Chester said nothing more after that as he turned to leave. Maniac coldly called out from behind him, "If I catch wind of you trying to fiddle with this situation, I'm feeding you to the dogs."

He raised his head when he heard the door push open from outside. He saw Lucia enter first. " sis, you're here." " Did you...." he was about to ask if she was coming from campus when someone else followed Lucia inside. He didn't know who this man was, as he was seeing him for the first time. This man was more handsome than Jonny whom he knew was his sister's fiance. He wore a pair of tailored white pants. He was tall, his facial features well-defined and handsome. He was so good looking he could make people stop breathing from staring at him for too long. With a hand casually hooked in the pocket of his pants and his scarlet thin lips slightly pursed, he was so sexy that his looks could kill

He couldn't just climb inside with the chest and hide somewhere among the stacks. As the man had already noticed him, Matthew had no choice but to hold out the chest to him. "Whoa, this one weighs a ton." The man commented, and Matthew winced when the man plunked the chest carelessly on the floorboard. As it landed with a heavy thud, he could almost hear Arabella complaining from within the box. Turning away, he pretended to leave. When he sneaked a glance over his shoulder, the man was placing another chest atop the chest with Arabella in it.

“Look, you’ve become more of a healer. I felt the approach of the old man for a long time, it always appeared like a mushroom from under a stump. And that they just can’t sit at home, like my grandfather. I sighed and turned around, putting on a polite smile. Mr. Wilson stood at a distance, his hands clasped behind his back. The usual cardigan of intricate knitting, this time in cherry color, is buttoned up, a high collar of a shirt is at the throat, dark trousers are tucked into brown ugg boots. The usual walk of a gentleman over seventy is nothing suspicious.

Gath, who was limping, suddenly raised his palm and hit Chester on his back. Gath attacked so quickly in such a close distance; Chester's reflex failed to respond in time. Boom! A dull rumbling vibration sounded the next second, and Chester groaned as his figure staggered dozens of steps backward. Finally, he landed on a pile of debris in the yard. His face had paled. "You! Who are you?" Chester's eyes locked onto Gath; he was shocked and furious. He had never expected that the old man would repay his kindness with that. What was even more surprising was that the old man was a cultivator in disguise.

I could have sworn I hadn't so much as heard a single cricket song in the time I had been wading through the trees. I shook my head after peering curiously into the shifting shadows in the grooves of the bent trees, unable to puzzle out what I was looking at. “Well, If it isn’t Zavier Cross, Alpha King of the chipmunks,” The throaty baritone of the man’s drawl came behind me so that I jerked to a stop, the hairs on the back of my neck rising as I turned slowly and snapped my gaze up to the large, minotaur-like man that had been sitting, half-hidden in the leafy umbrella of the trees.

It was a man in his 50s, his face painted in white, making him look even paler than a corpse. He wore a traditional hunting robe from a previous Daneast era. The sleeves were quite wide. He had a pointed hat on, and a brilliant butterfly was fluttering around it. The moment Cassian saw the man, his gut told him that he couldn't defeat this man. Although the newcomer didn't radiate any form of bloodlust, he gave off a mysterious air. "Do you know him?" Cassian asked. Dunley shook his head. "I've never seen him before."