Novel & Cerita What A Hell Of A Way Die

My tone dropped into something even hell couldn’t touch. “Una morte veloce è il paradiso per i peccatori... Ma una morte lenta è il primo inferno.” (A quick death is heaven for sinners... but a slow death is the first hell.) Cassian’s knees nearly buckled. I stepped even closer, lowering my voice like a dagger sliding between ribs. “I will cut off your limbs… one after the other. Pluck out your eyes. Rip your tongue. Break every tooth in your mouth.

He moved quickly and handed the gun he was holding to Shaira. "What now, Ciara? Maybe you want to beg for your life before we finish you?" Hannah asked, smirking. May the bloodshed, but I would never kneel to the demons like you, Hannah, just to beg for my life. "Are you guys ready to suffer and DIE?" She emphasizes the last word as she playfully smirks at us. I boldly traced her, as if I was going to laugh at her joke. She could no longer frighten me with such a threat because I had been ready for death since I was born. I was born to die. It's been plenty of times since I met death, but he never took me.

But there’s no way in hell I’m leaving now. “Weighing in at 213 pounds, he’s 6’2 of a solid wall you don’t wanna fucking hit. He’s the very male your mama warned you about and all the scary shit that goes bump in the night, let’s hear it for the … MOTHER FUCKING REEEEEEEEVE of the Flying Death!!! Punch Dennnnnissooooooon,” the emcee shouts, as the crowd erupts again. Suddenly there’s a massive surge and everyone moves forward, as if they’re all trying to get a piece of him. Get close to him.

And death. “It’s just comfort,” Speedy said. He was alert that night, an unusual change from his drooling, incontinent self. Mykel thought about candles and about how they burned brightest just before they went out. “I don’t know if Woods would approve.” “Just half an hour. Help me walk in. I’m weak. She’s scared. The little one’s dying.” “Look, you should be resting.” “I’ll rest when I’m dead, boy,” Speedy said, letting go of Mykel’s arm. “And you’ll rest too someday. ‘Til then, let us live. No woman should cry alone in the night, not on Christmas.”

Her shrieks of fear could do nothing but add to the discordant harmony rolling about the room. “By the power of earth. By the power of air. By the power of water. By the power of fire. Let forth the spirit. Descend to the lantern of sorrows of the South, to the trumpets of doom of the West, to the praise of harlots to the East, to the horns of death to the North. Descend!”

I guess this is it, this is how I get out of this place Death!

She slurred. Levi and Mateo, “But there is one thing I still want – if I die in a very cool way – like shot to death or something – not die from old age or boredom.” She rolled her eyes, “And one of you has to tell the other about my death. I want you to say BLAIRE DOWN,” She laughed. “I think it is a very cool way of declaring my death.” She slurred. Mateo chuckled and took the glass from her hand, “Okay, yeah – I think you had enough.”

But people died today, you had no right. Hella gets a bit displeased and snarls, ''Watch your tone don't forget your place. I can do much worse than today's attack and you know that. About those people, they died for the greater good, there is nothing more honorable. I'm afraid I must go now but I'll be watching you.''

" But your feminine features are very beautiful, you would be beautiful if you were a woman, wich you are not, your just an ugly devil" " That doesn't even make any sense, you know that?" " oh shut up already, it's bad enough I'm here with you already I don't need to hear you complain now" " you little..." " by the way where are we? is this hell? it pretty much looks like that....am I actually death and went to hell? WHAT THE FUCK I THOUGHT DIEING IS TO STOP EXISTING " *sigh* " Hei don't talk about my home like that kid!"

I turn another page and my hands go still. The header is in Italian, neat and unhurried. Authorization code, Palermo operation. Beneath it, a string of numbers and letters that mean nothing to me, and beneath that, a date. Two years ago. The date Lorenzo Armenise was killed. And below the date, in the same careful script, a single word. Target. And the target’s surname is Armenise.