Turning A Blind Eye Oblivion Novels & Stories

"The room on the second floor, the child's room, and the closet. Throw out anything that belongs to a man or a child. Also, move everything out of the guest room and that room. Leave everything of value behind. They're stolen goods." Immediately, clanging was heard everywhere. I rubbed my chin and gave another specific instruction, "Do something about the lock. Those three aren't allowed back in here." … The first to return home was Evan. "Open the door, Mom. Why did you close the door? Open up and let me in. I want to play video games. I want to play my video games!" Evan was slamming hard on the door when the housekeeper was preparing my dinner. "Open up, Mom! You can't be out of the house

"Oh. Too many women died here. I don't know which one of them is your sister." The man didn't really care about the number of deaths. He seemed to have lost interest in me as well. "You like pretending to be blind, don't you? Well then, I'll make you blind first before killing you." He aimed his gun at my right eye. His finger slowly and painstakingly moved to pull the trigger at an agonizingly slow rate. My fear of death began to overwhelm me. I couldn't help but tremble violently while biting down on the tip of my tongue.

The primal warriors were pouring into the valley, destroying everything in their path. And in the center of the fleet, on the largest ship—the Oblivion—stood the Forgotten. He was tall, with skin like obsidian, his eyes like purple fire. He looked up at Cole and smiled. You’re too late, he said, his voice echoing in Cole’s mind. Your world is already lost. He raised his hand, and a wave of primal energy shot out, striking the ledge. The ground crumbled beneath them, and Cole and the others fell.

“A week without me and you’re twitching like this?” Eli swallowed hard. “Yes.” “Say it.” “I need you.” “More.” “I need your hands. Your voice. Your rules.” Damian’s grip tightened. “There he is.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a length of soft black fabric — a blindfold. He dangled it in front of Eli’s lips. “You wear this,” he murmured, “and you stop thinking. Understood?” “Yes.” The fabric slid over his eyes — darkness settling like obedience.

I reach for the noise-canceling headphones and a thick, padded silk blindfold. Eve watches me, her brow furrowing slightly as she recognizes the tools. "No ropes?" she ask, disappointment clear in her voice. "Not tonight." I return to her, holding the blindfold like a consecration. "Tonight, I don't want to restrain your body. I want to restrain your world. I want to take away the inputs until the only thing left is me." She tilts her head, intrigued. Trusting. "Turn around." She turns and I fasten the blindfold securely. It’s wide, blocking out every photon of light.

"My body might be weak, Lucian. I might not be able to shift yet. But my mind belongs to me. My soul hates you. Every single drop of blood in my veins despises what you are." I pushed against his chest with all the strength my trembling arms could muster. "If you want your sight back, you are going to have to drag me to the altar kicking and screaming. You are going to have to force every single piece of this bond because I will never give it to you willingly.” The pain in my abdomen twisted, but I forced it down, letting anger take its place. “You earned your blindness, Lucian. You deserve the dark. And if it's up to me, you will stay blind until the day you rot.”

The massive explosion swallowed the entire car in an instant as thick smoke billowed straight into the sky. Screams of panic erupted from the crowd. I stood in the stands, watching as the blazing fire devoured everything. The flickering flames reflected in my eyes. I thought to myself, "You've won the bet, Evelyn. Now, you don't need to pretend to be blind anymore." … Third-Person POV When Evelyn woke up, she was in a hospital ward. She forced her eyes open, only to be met with a stark white ceiling.

Why would a blind man choose something so visual? Unless he remembers. Unless he refuses to let the dark win. I don’t know how long I stand there. Then— “What are you doing here?” The voice slices through the silence. Low. Calm. Controlled. I spin around. Desmond Blackwood stands near the door. My heart nearly stops. I don’t hear it open. I don’t hear him move. He stands tall in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. His white cane, detailed with subtle gold swirls, rests in his left hand. Dark lenses shield his eyes, his expression unreadable.

That’s when I see it. The blinds. Pulled back just enough to reveal a face. Eyes. Staring right back at me from the dark window of that house. My breath catches in my throat, and for a second, time seems to freeze. The figure’s gaze is unwavering, locked on mine. My heart stutters in my chest, the thud of it too loud in my ears. Is that... No. No way. That can’t be him.

As soon as my eyes met his, Denver nodded and he did step forward to hand me the blindfold. "I'll pull you out as soon as you start bleeding" He whispered, turning me around before inching closer to my back. I felt his heated breaths trail along my skin as he tightened the blindfold around my eyes. It would be easier for me to concentrate with this. Without any distractions.