Tokyo Ghoul I Am Tragedy นิยาย & เรื่องราว

For a moment, the green fire flared one last time. "Take... my data," the Omega gasped. "I am a billion hours of failed Symmetry. I am the ultimate 'Trash.' Use me... as a shroud." As the Omega began to dissolve into a cloud of grey ash, Leo felt a sudden, cold weight in his mind—the map of the city’s sub-structure. The place where the "Trash" lived. The Romantic Stand: The Vow in the Dark The Golden Eye blinked. The city turned a deep, bruised purple.

Sitting up, he saw the sun glittering on shards of glass littering the carpet; all that was left of a Parisian whiskey decanter his father had thrown at him last night after returning from the disastrous party. Sleepily running his hand through his hair, he encountered the bruise on his face. So, it had been more than a dream-- the whole debacle had been real. The whiskey had dimmed the memory into a fragmented nightmare that replayed itself over and over. Vince made his way to the washbasin to splash cool water on his face, hoping to clear his vision and head.

“God, this guy is disgusting- oh, great. There's the BLT. All over the cushions...” The door of doom opened as I emptied the contents of my gut. The Grim Reaper sprang from the portal, a horrific phantasm with blood-red eyes. He was nothing but shadow and bone, cobbled of skeletal skin. He put the Watcher in a death-lock and jerked his head viciously. Samael drove his foot into Jakkon's crotch and wrenched backwards, splitting his abdomen in half. Noor's head fell to the ground.

He then leaves the room without even turning to look at me. The tears continue to flow, and I don’t stop them. I feel used, worthless, and useless. Well, I am not expecting him to just accept me. I am his object, one which he can use at any time he pleases. I can never be more than a toy to him. What choice do I have?.

Sometime later, she seemed to have gotten nightmares as she suddenly jolted awake. She used to be so afraid of the dark, but now, she was sitting alone in a huge graveyard. "I miss you, Leo. I want to talk to you. Please talk to me. Please respond to me, okay?" she pleaded humbly. I hovered beside her, carefully spreading my arms so that I wouldn't pass through her body. I pretended that I could still actually hug her. I kept her company for three days and three nights. Coincidentally, this went on until my death anniversary. At that moment, I had been dead for exactly a decade.

So in their eyes, I was nothing more than a tool to be completely drained of worth. The storm felt as though it were freezing my organs solid, but I summoned the last of my strength, curled my fingers and pushed the car door open again. My stiff limbs gave way the moment I stepped out, and I fell hard into the snow. Hearing the noises from my end, Zachary scoffed, his sneer almost visible in his voice. "No way, are you trying to rupture the heating pipes again? You can't even bear to hurt a mouse, so why are you acting all scary now?

Amara I had seen death. I had wielded it, survived it, stood with my hands drenched in it. But whatever was inside Trina now—this was something else. She convulsed on the stone floor, her mouth open in a soundless scream as black smoke poured from her eyes and fingertips. The shadows recoiled. Even the Forgotten kept their distance. This wasn’t possession. This wasn’t magic. It was infestation. Kael stood protectively in front of me, but I stepped around him, heart pounding.

From where Trisha and Wilkes were, their hearts pummeled against their ribcage. “With... What?” Derek coughed out, trying to reach his axe but to no avail. “Who. Are. You?” “I ask the questions here!” the ghoul said forcefully with an unhidden tint of animosity. “You are going to help us get your friend, Harold Girard.” Like that, the ghoul twisted his neck tighter and as a reflex action, Derek opened his mouth wider, not daring to breath then unrealistically, Trisha and Wilkes watched the ghoul float into his mouth in mere seconds with its dark, smoky wisps gliding down his throat.

she said, leaving him. Alone, Mark looked at the gun he was carrying in his waist. It reminded him of the law of werewolf city forbidding a werewolf from killing another werewolf with the use of their abilities. He cursed the air as he felt his brain shutting down slowly. He was tired, angered and filled with a lot of hatred he wished he could just pour out at once without feeling weak. As the blackness set in, the last thing he heard was an odd sound like the chattering of confused birds, each one farther away from the other. Slowly, it started to rain.