The Daily Life Of The Immortal นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Those cases were called Spector protocols and more often than not, the reapers would just let the soul become ghosts. There was no protocol for what Lisa had just seen. She had never heard of anything like that happening in all her time as a reaper. Humans were born, they lived and they died, the end. That was the iron law of the universe that every human was subject to without exception. Of course, some could get lucky and survive fatal incidents but no one was so lucky that their wounds instantly healed. Something was definitely up and Lisa had a feeling she wouldn’t like what came next.

(Bianca POV) It was early morning when I woke up with Gen in bed with me. We've been close as sisters ever since Bray brought her here to live with her uncle. When he saved Kora and I from the rouge wolves the only thing that I noticed first about him was the cinnamon and the smell of wood burning at a campfire. I didn't even notice that there was something in his hand, like someone's heart but I really believe he did take my heart away that day. Every part of me that he was the person that was going to be my mate even though I was only ten years old at the time. I was also told later that day that he had a mate that died in the rouge attack on their pack that same day. I don't understand if

That brings about I know many things other people don’t. He gives me that crooked smile that would once make my poor heart throb. Now I think the withered organ isn't even beating. — You offered her a second chance, she accepted it, had to die burned and turned to ashes, her molecules came back together and then what? She became a psychotic killer and entertained herself by mutilating people? I see him purse his lips and lower his head in shame. —There is something I must confess. There is a period in the life of an immortal that can only be described with a word: Emptiness.

The immortal’s jaw tightened. Seraphine noticed immediately. “What is he talking about?” The immortal didn’t answer. The First Immortal’s smile widened. “He never told you?” Seraphine turned sharply. “Tell me what?” The immortal remained silent. The First Immortal spoke softly. “The beings that existed before the throne.” Seraphine’s heart pounded. “Before fate?” “Yes.” He pointed toward the sky beyond the city. “They live in the deepest layers of the Void.” Seraphine felt the memory of her dreams.

“I’ll believe you. Whatever it is, I’ll believe you.” He looked up into her eyes, and he finally seemed to believe her. He looked back down at the water for a very long time, until once again, he was ready to talk. “I am an Immortalist. I come from a family of Immortalists. We have been alive for nearly two thousand years. Our name, though, is deceptive: we are not immortal. None of us. Our life span is finite. Two thousand years, exactly. In fact, as fate would have it, we have only weeks left to live.”

Otherwise, what is the point of being an immortal if you can’t enjoy it? Maybe the humans I despise so much are better off than me. Enjoying life to the fullest every day because you never know which day is your last, now that was living. What I’m doing… it just isn’t. Each passing day is the same. Nothing to look forward to. Nothing really excites me anymore. I feel numb. It’s as if I am living in a world of black and white. So here I am immersing myself in the company of those I hate just to spice my life up, forever on the hunt for that bit of color. How very basic of me. Have I fallen so far?

For all his heretical beliefs, he was flirting with his own ruin, putting himself in a situation where it could all be taken away from him, because secretly he knew it was wrong, that the balance must be restored and being immortal was nothing like he hoped it would be. Jimmy also realised what had really scared him when he looked into Isimud’s eyes. Behind the anticipation and the maliciousness, he had seen a dull and stultifying numbness. That must be the worst thing about being immortal, never having to worry about getting old or dying. Like his story, Isimud’s life lacked an ending, and that took away all of its meaning.

She clearly didn’t want to be here, but she, too, understood the gravity of the situation. The soft hum of inaudible murmurs hung in the hall, occasionally pierced by the groans of the elder impaled on the chandelier above. I tapped my fingers against the armrest, watching his agonized body writhe in pain. His cries for mercy had reduced to pitiful whimpers. This was the dark part of being an immortal. Being an immortal wasn’t always all about roses and daisies. One wrong decision, one misstep and an immortal’s life could turn into an eternal suffering.

“You really don’t appreciate the benefits of vampirism, do you? We can watch the world change, over and over. We can see the birth of civilisations, and watch them collapse, all with a drink in our hands. We can fall in love, and fall out of love, and recreate ourselves a thousand times over. We can climb onto a rooftop in Paris, and watch the lights from a perspective few others will ever be granted. We can walk the streets of New York in a hundred different centuries, seeing the buildings rise and fall and rise again. We can travel to an old English village, walk atop the crumbling castles and dive headfirst from a Victorian pier. All of that, Ellis, and you wish to feel your toes go numb

Cassie chuckled. "Oh my God! That's true! There's nothing as relieving as finally having her to take care of her messes. She practically spent her whole life making enemies." I reported with a huff and fell on my bed." "I believe when you've lived half of their age, you will understand that being immortal comes with its pitfalls." Cassie said, laughing lightly. Then fell on the bed, beside me. "So, let's not talk about me. Let's talk about you." I said, propping myself up with my below. "What have you been up to? Found another mate or something like that."