White Nights By Fyodor Dostoevsky Novels & Stories

Once he could see a little, he was stunned by what he saw and so was everyone else. Mercedes's body had risen in the air floating above them. Her body was limp and still luminous. The shocking part was the spectrals of the White Wolves that were floating around her. The golden runes on their bodies glowed brightly. Everyone was amazed by their majestic forms, including Felix. It was their first time seeing the great White Wolves, and they felt honored to be in their presence. Felix was worried. He thought the White Wolves appeared to take Mercedes with them. He was not going to let that happen, even if it meant that he would have to risk his life.

Goodness, what a drama king. “Enrick, do I look like a fool to you?” He gazes at me amusedly with his hands on his sides. “A White Wolf crosses the border in high frequency, and you’ve authoritarian forbid anyone to hinder her, under the threat of the death penalty. In other packs, trespassing is a serious crime and the perpetrator is actually killed without a second thought," he points out.

I watched her with an icy gaze, then let out a laugh. "Betty, you're really something." "What's that supposed to mean?!" she snapped, her voice hitting a higher note. I lifted my hand slowly, a faint glow gathering at my fingertips, and gently pressed it to Joseph's brow. "Ah!" Joseph's scream was bloodcurdling as he crumpled to the floor. Before our eyes, his skin started to rot, his once charming face then creased with wrinkles, his hair falling out by the handful. In mere seconds, he transformed from a vibrant young man to a gasping old man.

LUCIEN'S POV The walls were white. That was the first thing, the last thing and the only thing. White walls with white ceiling and white floor. White light that never dimmed, that never flickered, it just burned into his eyes until he couldn't close them anymore because closing them made the light brighter somehow, made it live inside his skull. Lucien didn't know how long he'd been here.

One document led to another, and then another, until we found references I'd either overlooked or dismissed the first time. And our findings revealed something I would have never expected. The White Wolves possessed a strange power to enter a deep sleep that resembled death, a state they could remain in for decades and even centuries. “That's new,” Theo said, looking at me. I dragged a hand slowly through my hair as the full weight of what we'd just uncovered finally settled over me. “Fuck.” For several long moments, I couldn't bring myself to move. My mind was already racing, trying to make sense of a discovery that had just turned everything upside down.

I tell him and he nods. “Am glad we have an understanding and I think from now on. You and I will get along fine. Now, do you remember what I said if something like this happens again?” I asked him. “Yes, I remember.” He answers, his face is white as snow, and I can see that he is in a lot of pain. Poor man. “Good, Fingers, drive him to the nearest hospital and leave him there,” I tell him and get out of the cold room. I met Souls just as I am headed to the shower, they call him Souls because he enjoys watching people as their souls leave their bodies when they die. Creepy I know but this is the bratva world, the world of weird stuff, blood, drug, and money.

In that case, he could be killed earlier and save the endless torture. This was like a person who had been punished repeatedly. There was only one thought left in his mind: Give me a quick death. Splash! The surging starlight, like a surging flood, instantly wrapped around Dumb Fidas's whole body. A white light once again appeared on the surface of protection talisman. But this time, the white light was extremely weak. After shaking a few times, the dim light went out. Dumb Fidas smiled, and then he knew nothing.

Lloyd assumed he wanted to clear his head, and he could understand why. There was a strange warmth in the room, and it penetrated inside him. It was pleasant, albeit peculiar. Even the grim narration, written in a shaking hand, did nothing to quell it. It was his last journal. Or at the least of that era. 'The crew are dying,' Nathaniel wrote. 'The whiteness takes over their eyes, and their bones seem to be breaking from their body. Death and decay, all while they still move.' He set the pen down, looking over the smudged words. He hoped the ink was smeared due to his careless hand, not for any weak reason.

It was nothing new, but the image of him there tonight made my insides tight. "That took you a while," he said. "I think this mark turned white." He set the book down. "Really?" "I think so, at least. Maybe I'm seeing things." "It's only four AM. You're not tired already, are you?" He asked. "I kind of am. Did you get the ice?"

By the way, this also explains the fact that the thief left unpunished, although the artifact was supposed to kill him, like the previous wisher. Twilight was slowly gathering, and in the reflections of the fire, the brunette's face became completely transparent and pale, as if glowing from within. Like a real ghost, if you believe the most common ideas about their appearance. “Still dress her accordingly - in white ...” - Vlad thought.