The Songstress(?)

The Songstress(?)

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    Parts 2
WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing15m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Jul 13, 2018
So, just beforehand, lemme tell you now that the songstress is not a songstress :}. This means, if you're dull enough not to have realized by now, that what you take originally to have been a songstress was actually a cleverly disguised little faggot. That's right, a faggot, so people who don't like dick, beware! This story has an extra one! -- Warnings Aside -- In the most mysterious parts of the Atlantic ocean, a research company by the name of Ursus Majora has taken root and built a base. Why? Political journalist Caine Marks isn't sure. He travels to the base in an attempt to unearth its suspected watergate-level political abominations to find only a single being, whose song finally escapes the sound-proof containment area due to the carelessness of a single researcher and thereby floors the entire place. Who sang? What happened, and why were all of these people dead? Caine would only find out by looking, and being an investigative journalist had taught him to /always/ stick his nose where it didn't belong.
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She's dead by the third chapter. Okay, it's a bit more complicated than that. Okay, it's A LOT more complicated than that. Renata wants nothing more than to pay her bills through her mildly boring office job and figure out whether she is still in love with her best friend. The latter half of that desire is just a sneak peak into her messy life-and it's only getting messier. Considering the paranormal world she is about to dive head first into, she will come to realize that figuring out her heart may just be the easiest part of this journey. Well, the endless supply of supernatural hotness in this story may beg to differ-but that's besides the point. Either way, it's gonna be a killer time ;) EXCERPT Chicken tacos it is. Right as Renata grabbed the ingredients, she turned to put them next to the stove, where a clean, plastic cutting board awaited. But as she moved, she was confronted by a stranger, an intruder, standing mere inches from her. Before she could scream, he was on her, slamming her against the fridge. Her back flashed with sharp pain. Her eyes pricked with fear as she drank in his uncovered face. Deeply tanned skin. Ruby red eyes-ruby red eyes? Thick, slashing eyebrows. Flat, broad nose. Buzzcut. Handsome. That was as far as she would go in complimenting him considering this guy held a knife to her throat. When he spoke, his voice came out like thunder. It held a thousand threats and a thousand secrets. It held promise of pain if provoked. "If you scream," he warned, mouth pulled in a slight snarl, "this ends quickly." She didn't dare nod against the blade. He noticed and amusement lit up for just a second in those devilish eyes. Oh, whoever the fuck this was, she already hated him. Considering her predicament, panic was the most prominent emotion coursing through her at the moment. "Good." He removed his hand "Now you're going to answer my questions." °°MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT OF ALL KINDS, AND I MEAN ALL KINDS°

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