Thriller Nights Novels & Stories

♪♪ Lily - Alan Walker, K-391, Emelie Hollow ✿✿✿ Los Angeles, USA, 2019 NIGHTS are so peaceful but mysterious. People take the opportunity of killing, kidnapping, smuggling and doing so many illegal things at night because it's not tumultuous at all. Also people throw most of the parties and peaceful events at night. Every night holds a mystery because of its darkness and opaqueness. I love nights for its mysterious but so clam ambience. No tumultus, no noise, no yelling, no beating and no fear. It's just so tranquil.

-Maddox. What the hell is this? I set the notebook down gently on the counter, picking up the thick stack of paper and rummaging through it. At first I see words like ‘she shall commit to the decisions made by the council blah blah blah blah’ but at one certain piece of paper, I pull it out completely and see that it says: I WILLOW ARCHFIEND WILL HEREBY COMMIT TO THE PROCREATING OF A NEW HEIR EACH NIGHT BY THE KING OF NIRTAVILLE WITH NO QUESTIONS ASKED FOR NOW ON

Either way, she did not like the way she was feeling at the moment. The main factor that contributes to her build-up anxiety has to be the incident that happened last night. Thinking about it makes her blood run cold. She can still feel his emotionless eyes glaring at her, and his hatred radiating even from afar. If by chance, he'd show up in front of her today, Giselle would gladly embrace death. "Oh, my goodness. No way!" Yvonne could choke in her own surprise.

It didn’t. Then came Monday night. The city was quiet, muffled by a light spring rain that tapped against the glass like restless fingers. I was lying in bed, the blue light of my smartphone casting long, dancing shadows across the ceiling as I doom-scrolled through the app's history. My heart stuttered when I saw the timestamp. Midnight I got a notification: fingerprint update success. Unlocking— The sound of the notification tone was sharp, like a needle scratching vinyl. Before I could process the words on the screen, a deeper sound vibrated through the floorboards—the mechanical thunk of the deadbolt retracting.

But instead of focusing on the pleasure, she glanced at the upstairs banister. It was too dark to see much, but William's room was the first door on the left. The door closed and the light was off, but still Tara worried. Every downward slide shook her breasts, a sheen of sweat gleaming from them in the dim moonlight. Normally she'd never take such a risk, but she had been without Samuel for so long, and she always got so horny around this time of the month. She didn't want sex - she needed it . "Mmmmm, finally getting into it are you?" Tara leaned forward just so, gripping his hard chest and letting her hips work his c*ck.

Three lockers down. Stop. Open. Grab books. Close. Everything is mechanical. Precise. Controlled. Except…. I feel it. That awareness again. Immediate. Unmistakable. He’s here. I don’t turn right away. I don’t need to. But my grip tightens on my locker door anyway. Because today…. Everything feels closer. Heavier. Like whatever’s been building isn’t waiting anymore. “Hope.” Lila’s voice cuts through the noise. I glance over. She’s watching me carefully. “You look like you didn’t sleep.” “I didn’t,” I say.

In remembrance! In remembrance! Lord Nox, the God of War, succumbed to the siege by the Ten Nations and perished in the treacherous Ocean of Death. The battleground witnessed not only the staining of azure waters but also a sea adorned with lifeless forms, as Lord Nox, with unmatched prowess, faced and conquered the formidable lions of the Ten Nations.Contrary to popular belief attributing Lord Nox's demise to the collective might of the Ten Nations, the truth unfolds that the one responsible for extinguishing his life was none other than the woman who held the deepest place in his heart.In the passage of time, Nox Greenshade stood atop the towering peaks, gazing upon the vast expanse below

The black lace of her thong was damp, a darker patch at the center. The scent of her arousal was direct, and overwhelming. She pressed a hand against my forehead, pushing my head back into the pillows, a smirk playing on her lips. The second verse built, “(Baby, we both know) that the nights were mainly made, For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day.” She began to ride my chest, not my cock, grinding her soaked lace-covered pussy against the centre of my chest. I could feel the heat, the pressure. My right hand was a blur on my own flesh.

He took me straight to the car and scooped me gently into the backseat. I heard him whisper my name multiple times while he drove away. I didn't know where, but I was certain I was safe. And behind us, was Wet Nights-standing like a bloody empire, soaked in blood, haunted by screams that would never leave the walls. I hated the chaos but I loved the kill. I enjoyed it. It's my therapy.

“How old are you?” “Twenty-five.” “You’ll be dead before you figure out how to do what’s good for you.” “That’s probably true,” I agree ruefully. “Either from old age or murder.” “My money is on murder.” I laugh and then Eliza does too. “There’s a neat antique store in Thorne Hill,” I tell her. “The owner is scared of vampires and closes right at sunset.” “Closing at sunset is too late to avoid vampires.” “I know. There are only two vampires in Thorne Hill right now.”