This is a direct continuation of my first book.
(Hazbin Hotel) The Radio Demon and The Doe-Eyed Killer
So if you haven't read that book yet, go read it because you will be VERY confused if you don't!
I know year 2020 has already come and gone for us...
Dark Flute Atmosphere: by Pablo Marchenay ———————————————————
Leonidas was grateful he was sitting down because he would've collapsed over those words. "Aciano? What about Aci—? No, no this doesn't make any sense? I thought you said that last night was just going to be you interrogating a possible lead for any information surrounding that former Overlord? How is Aciano?"
He looked into Farouk's eyes, saw the pained acceptance laying within them. A pain that heavily contrasts his vacant facial expression, and dread filled Leonidas's heart.
Leonidas steeled his voice to remain calm as he spoke. "What happened Farouk?"
Farouk stared them down without breaking his unnervingly vacant facial expression and it hurt Leonidas heart.
Farouk was so emotionally numb that he didn't even realize that his powers activated the moment he locked eyes with them all.
Mariya watched as the Al Saleh's and Leonidas all shuddered and then their bodies went still as a ramrod. Their eyes were wide open, unblinking, and fearful as they stared Farouk down.
Farouk's eyes glowed red as he stared them down while pulling his hood over his head. He outstretched his hands and grinned a twisted grin as he spoke.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Remember that old Grecian Sand Rat—Jayr Aikia?"
His hypnotic voice was sweeter than honey and deadlier than poison to the ears. It was frightening and Mariya found herself frozen in place despite the fact he didn't even lock eyes with her.
The sound waves that echoed off his voice blew down the hood the moment he said that man's name.
As Farouk smiled his tears slowly fell down his face alongside the ink that mixes with his own venomous blood.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
There's the sound of fabric tearing and the gemmed hair tie fell to the floor as his hair unraveled and fanned out around his head in a nonexistent wind.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
