Romans & histoires The Killers Coming Out Of My Cage

She wanted Bella to be in pain every second of her life until she finishes her life in shame. “All of you got your money and also I will help all of you escape from this town. No one will know anything, furthermore, the money you got from me is enough for you to enjoy a lavish life. Have fun. Remember, the fun should be recorded on the camera, so make it possible,” Casey said and locked the door. She stood outside for a couple of seconds with a satisfied smile, killing her humanity. There was no sympathy left in her, she got corrupted completely by the evilness.

Karma couldn't tell if it was real or fake, but it was not her business. Karma pulled out the spare keycard and slid it through the reader. The lock clicked open. She pushed the door hard. It slammed against the wall with a crack like a gunshot. Wood splintered as the door crashed against the wall. Mia's body went rigid. A scream tore from her throat in fear. "What's happening?" Marcus yanked at the restraints. The metal bit into his skin. "Who's there? What—" Karma walked in calmly, not in a hurry and unbothered, with the knife in her hand. She reached for the door and shut it.

He had stepped on a land mine he knew but what it had been was far from his knowledge and gulping a load of his saliva, he looked away. “Mr. Dean, I am sure you have heard about the quote, curiosity killed the cat?” Alastor alleged eyeing the man with his freezing blue eyes, “Working in this particular facility you must be aware that it has gotten more people killed than just a puny animal. You wouldn’t want to be one of them, do you?” To threaten a police officer in their own station and yet have them cower in their presence was the kind of man that Alastor Tynen was.

Chaos erupted. Everyone scrambled toward the soldier's hospital room. Miller dragged me by my handcuffs, pushing me to the front of the crowd. Through the glass, I saw Enzo tangled in a mess of tubes. Disgust flashed across my face. Then I gave Miller a faint smile. "If I had known you were so hard to kill, I would have used white phosphorus instead of cyanide." "I planned nine perfect executions, only for you to become the one stain on my record."

[Avira] Kyle appeared on the podium through the back door, bearing the old Ashen cage. Although he carried it with ease, I could tell that it was heavier than he made it seem. Carefully, he placed the old looking cage on the floor in front of me, and motioned for me to get inside, and I did, trembling with fear.

I look inside the cages and he's right, five of them are dead. “The fuck? How did this happen?” I asked him. “I talked to you about this. Feral shifters are not meant to be caged. You keep them in a cage, sooner or later they'll die or they'll actually kill themselves. In this case two of them died while the other three ran mad and killed themselves.” The doctor tells me. “I thought we had more time?” I asked him.

"And right now, nobody understands you." He closed the door. The lock clicked. Arielle was alone. She walked to the fire. She held her hands out to the flames. Her fingers were still numb. She looked around the luxurious room. It was a cage. A gilded, warm cage. But it was better than the altar. Better than the pit. She saw a mirror on the wall. She walked over to it. She pulled the hood down. Her hair was a mess. Her dress was torn and bloody.

I stared at the video until my eyes burned. My nails dug crescents into my palms. The pain brought me back to reality, and I clicked 'Continue'. The man on screen moved with rough urgency. He was relentless, causing the woman to cry out in pain. Though his face stayed hidden, the jagged scar peeking beneath his cuff seared my vision. Unable to bear it anymore, the woman pleaded for mercy. Ethan Cooper leaned in and whispered in her ears, "Chiara, do you know how much I want to make you cry like this? You never listen to me. I wish I could break your legs so you'd never leave me."

Every step felt like walking deeper into a grave. The torchlight trembled across the walls, revealing stains that might’ve been rust—or blood. Old pipes ran along the ceiling, some still dripping. There were scraps of torn fabric caught in the metal—remnants of old uniforms. And then I saw it: a cage. Small, rusted, warped open like something had clawed its way out. Scratches lined the inside, deep enough to curl the metal. I froze, nausea clawing its way up my throat. This was what we were. Hunters. Captors. Monsters hiding behind the word righteous.

Junior turned to look at the massive screen and saw that Killer was approaching. He was well-dressed, with his boxer shorts matching his shoes. He was trailed by a slew of attractive ladies and his people. And there was a beautiful casket being carried by four young men dressed in black suits. They were dancing in the casket. It was interesting to watch. That was the casket prepared in advance to be used to bury Junior if the chance prevails. Junior moved away from the entrance into the cage to stand at the other end to look at him. Honestly, Junior had been carried away by the dressing of Killer and how the stance was ignited because of his appearance. Junior had forgotten that he was stand