Romans & histoires The Mummy Or Ramses The Damned

“People will start killing each other.” The information wasn't just dangerous because it exposed crimes. It was dangerous because it exposed alliances. Secret one. The kind held together by money and fear and favors people would murder to protect. I sank back into my chair slowly. For the first time, I finally understood why everyone was desperate to find this first. Why Raffaele's grandfather was tense. Why Isabella approached me. Why I got kidnapped. Why Raffaele looked at me differently now. I wasn't dangerous because of who I was, I was dangerous because of what I might uncover next.

She was the Luna of the pack house; how could she run away when all the members looked up to her? She searched around for Damien but couldn't find him. Also, she realized the witch had come from the roof of the throne room. "Damien!" Emberlynn yelled as she started forward, but she had barely taken the first step when she halted. Hands burst out from the ground, followed by a horde of zombies emerging from the shadows. Emberlynn eyes widened in terror as the undead army charged toward them, their moans and groans filling the air. "Emberlynn!" Damien called, and she looked in the direction of the entrance of the pack house that she was currently facing to see him running towards her.

The echoes of my own voice reverberated through my fractured thoughts, a raw and haunting reflection of the terror that consumed me, as I bolted out of the room in a frenzied whirlwind, my anguished screams piercing the air. But it was the haunting image of Damian, lying there motionless, that had etched itself into the deepest recesses of my consciousness, forever etching an indelible scar upon my soul. The sheer petrification that gripped me, rendering me momentarily frozen, was a tormenting reminder of the fragility of life and the cruel twists of fate.

The man's eyes flickered, and he made muffled sounds, struggling to break free. Kaidën watched him, his head tilted to the side. "What?" he asked, observing the man's futile attempts to shake his head. "Trying to tell me she wasn't the sixth woman you murdered on this same yacht?" Kaidën's laughter echoed through the room, a haunting, menacing sound. The man's eyes bulged, and sweat pooled around his head and neck as Kaidën's laughter seemed to take on a life of its own, like a death drum beaten by demons from hell.

Rapture burned through my mind. "Oh, god, yes!" Matti moaned as I sprayed her face with cum. "Dad! Jasper! Yes!" She trembled there as she climax on Dad's cock. My cum drenched her face as the pleasure slammed through me. Ecstasy erupted from my dick as I sprayed their features. I coated their lips and cheeks and foreheads in cum. My jizz landed in their hair. "Shit," Dad groaned and buried to the hilt in my sister's pussy. "Oh, fuck, yes!"

At a time, everyone who was present felt that their worldview was turned upside down. Even King Meryem was startled. Perhaps, they were affected by the influence of tomb raiding movies. All of them became very wary. They were terrified that Cairo Meryem’s corpse would rise from the dead in the next second. Pretty soon, Tyr Summers was able to regain his composure. There was even some joy in his heart.

The road we walked in was narrow and the screams of falling down into what I did not want to imagine covered us kike a cloak. Finally, I got to the entrance of the gates. Academy of The Damned. I followed the crowd inside, my hand wrapped around the only piece of familiarity I had. The necklace my mum's had given me was kind of a comfort, but it still did nothing, when what looked like a dragon passed me slowly, crushing the unlucky souls beneath its feet. There was a big signpost that said orientation and so I pushed through the crowd, heading there. A small gathering of people stood, and a tall girl stood there. Her hair was brown, down to her waist but when she stared at the crowd, she ha

Shadows twisted unnaturally around them, curling along the walls and floor. Emily's lantern caught a figure at the far end of the room—a mummy, perfectly preserved, its wrappings decorated in gold, and most strikingly, a jackal-headed mask staring back at them. "Is that… a king?" Eric asked, his voice tight. Caleb shook his head slowly. "Not a king." Ivana's breath caught. "Anubis?" she whispered, her eyes wide as she took in the jackal-headed form. Emily shivered, stepping closer. "Isn't he a god?This… this is beyond anything we imagined.Why would a god be buried"

“I’ll make it delicious.” There was no electricity in the tiny room, no torchlight either. So Miranda had to cook in the dark. The smoke from the gas hung in the air like a heavy curtain. Sweat clung to our faces, but no one dared complain. The smell of the seasoning alone made our stomachs growl. “This already smells amazing,” Dixon praised, licking his lips. While we waited, Denzel came to me, holding his laptop to his chest. “Mom,” he said quietly. “The battery’s dead. I was studying, and now I can’t. How will I keep up?”

Mira's POV The White Coven: The heavy wind blew across my hair as I pushed the door's handle. The chimes jiggled loudly. I stepped in and all the women stopped chanting. Their dark clothes make everything eerie. Their heads suddenly turned to look at me. I stood still and noticed her, the high priestess at the altar. She raised her head revealing her dark shoulder length hair and thick eye liner. “Mira Alexander!!!” She yelled. I shuddered at the tone of her voice. She just had to be that loud. “Yes, priestess.”