Deaths Awakening

Deaths Awakening

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Aug 27, 2017
16-5-2001 0000 hours Adelaide South Australia Blood pumped through my veins as I ran, I don't know who running from or why I was running, I just was. All I do know is that something just killed 5 S.A.S.S. soldiers and that something wears black, black pants, black shoes and socks, black shirt and a black hoodie and to top it all off, that something has glowing blue eyes. "come here Mr. Jones, I won't bite you. Just slit your throat." the voice was german, a extremely deep german males voice. "you sore something that I don't want you to be telling other people about" the voice was closer now. "leave me alone. I didn't see anything" I say, obviously lying. "oh don't be scared, I would like to talk with you that's all." the Germans voice was now in front of me. I bumped into him. "found you" he said. "holy shit your fucking..." I said, but he cut me off. "Death. Oh and here's my card. Give it to the lady at the desk when you die and she will, heh, tell them to take it easy on you." he pulled a white card out and throw it at me. Slobe was the sound it made when it went into my stomach, I looked up and shore that death had a knife out. "say hello to daisy at the front desk for me" that was the last thing I heard before my throat was slit, blood gushing out of it and on my clothes. My head hit the ground and blood spilt out onto the ground, mixing with the oil and water, making a bronze color. Then I was here, in a pure white room. "Mr.jones" said a girl's voice. sorry if it has a lot of spelling miss takes, I'm my own editer and I don't do a good job of it ~J.Dalton
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**𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐳** Panic surges through me, and before I know it, I'm turning on my heel, trying to run, to escape the impending punishment. I barely make it a few steps before I feel his hand clamp down on my hair, yanking me back with terrifying force. "Going somewhere, little girl?" "P-please let g- ahh! Please! H-Hurts me!" "Afraid, are we now, baby?" His voice is a snarl now, filled with fury. "L-leave m-me," tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I'm scared of him, scared of what he'll do to my friend, scared of what he'll do to me. His grip on my hair tightens and I wince, choking back a sob. "Oh, why? Don't you like my hands on you, baby?" He mocks hurt that instantly turns back into anger. "But you were fine when that fucker touched you, ain't that right?" Then he pulls a silver knife out of his suit, twirling it lazily between his ink-covered knuckles and my blood freezes at the sight of that psychotic grin. ***** People quaked with fear at the sound of his name and me along with them. He was Demetrios 'the God' Nikolayev and he was first in command of Russian mafia. He was a true psychopath who enjoyed hurting people, and I hated him for that. The worst thing - he owned me. "Try to accept the darkness, because from now on, it will be your only light." I tried so hard, but I couldn't understand it back then. How possibly can darkness be light? ***** This is not a vanilla romance but a dark, toxic, perverted, obsessive story. The book contains mature themes such as foul language, bdsm, sexual and abusive content, kinks, blood, manipulation, etc. Please keep that in mind.

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