The Hill Has Eyes Franklin Novels & Stories

Her breathing becomes shallow. Despite staying still, blood kept gushing out from her stab wound. Her hand had gone frail from pressing on to stop the bleeding. Care suspected her stubbornness in the end won't help. In her trance-like state, flashes of an insignificant memory from the past resurfaced. Up on the hilltop, her ancestors built a pristine white mausoleum surrounded by evergreen trees. They called it Paradiso. Who would not?

“If you ask them about it, you will have to tell them about seeing me. If you do that, I swear they will pack everything up and move. Meaning you will not see me for a while.” As he finished speaking, I noticed his eyes had gone bright red and you didn't hear the owls anymore. “I’ve always trusted you more than my parents so why would I ask them, since you have already said they have been lying to me.” When I looked away from Marcus, I noticed there were about 7 pairs of vibrant colored eyes surrounding us. Slowly another set appeared but were purple with gold specks.

She dropped her head immediately, entirely unwilling to look up into his dangerous eyes, and silently prayed that he would just leave her alone. Alexander noticed her lovely eyes gazing frantically down at the floor, completely avoiding his own. He was instantly enraged. He desperately wanted to see her eyes—her beautiful, expressive green eyes that perfectly revealed exactly how terrified she was of him. He fiercely wanted to see those fearful eyes looking up at him.

Both were shocked with this incident, Anya looks up and collides with his blue-green eyes. Anya raise her finger and traces on Sebastian's eyes making him shiver with her touch "Your eyes are so beautiful, so pure without any malice." Anya stares into his eyes with admiration and fascination then says "Why you always filled them with negative emotions? Or else they are the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen in my life." Hearing her words Sebastian holds her waist and pulls her closer to him then he touches his forehead with her and mumbles "Stop me before I lose control."

, Fleki whispers, “No, I can hear her heart beating.” Rubbing my eyes as they opened, briefly blinded by the late afternoon sun beaming through the forest canopy above where I lay. I squinted, and when my eyes finally focussed, I realised a pair of eyes glistening with gold, and long black lashes that curled upwards, so intensity that made me gasp, were staring right back at me. “Please don't hurt me “. Frantically I started searching the ground for something to protect myself with. Then, realising my search was futile, I abruptly sat up, trying to muster as much dignity as I could.

A sinister grin spread across his face as he looked at Carl, whose eyes were now bulging out in fear. "You see, being able to see is a privilege. But some people shouldn't have it." He laughed. "What are you going to do?" Carl tried to shift in the chair, however, the cuffs secured him making it impossible for him to move. "Are you going to pluck my eyes?" Carl screamed frantically. Frank clicked his tongue and then laughed. "Now now, we shouldn't be pessimistic." Frank mumbled and walked towards Carl who was already panicking. "I'm trying to help you remember what had happened a few hours ago." Frank snickered as he traced Carl's cheekbone using the pointed metal rod.

Her scream echoed through the room, shrill and panicked. "Aaah!" But as soon as she spotted someone behind me, her expression morphed in an instant. Her eyes grew red-rimmed, tears welling up like a tragic heroine. "Emily, I know you despise me, but my child… my child is a life too!" I felt a strong hand seize my wrist, and I turned to find Tristan staring at me, his gaze glacial. "That's enough," he said coldly. "Emily, I asked you to come here for a civil conversation. How could you attack Faye like this?"

Greg, his own eyes reflecting a storm of emotions, met Nora's gaze across the space. "What a story," Angelina finally broke the spell, her voice filling the room like a warm wave. But the words, while meant to acknowledge the depth of Greg's revelation, felt hollow in the charged air. The story, once a carefully crafted narrative, now lay bare, its raw edges exposed for all to see.

“Don’t they?” “No.” I looked up at him. “All that matters is Evangeline. Keeping her stable. Keeping her alive as long as possible. Getting the heir we need.” Franklin studied me carefully. “You’re allowed to feel things.” “Does Evangeline smell different to you?” I asked abruptly. He frowned. “What?” “Her scent. Have you noticed anything strange?” “No,” he said slowly. “She smelled normal this morning. Why?” Because to me she smelled like rot. Like sickness.

I walked onto the grass, my legs feeling shaky but the fog in my brain finally starting to lift. I headed toward the stone bench near the fountain, Franklin trailing three paces behind me. He was watching me like a hawk, but his posture was slightly less rigid. "You've been with them a long time, haven't you?" I asked, sitting down and letting the cold stone seep through my jeans. "The Hales." "Twelve years, miss," he said, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. "And is this how it always goes? He decides he wants something, and he just... buys the world until there's nothing left but him?"