Satan's Dance: Mastery In The Cards
  • Reads 70
  • Votes 16
  • Parts 25
  • Time 3h 41m
  • Reads 70
  • Votes 16
  • Parts 25
  • Time 3h 41m
Ongoing, First published Jul 24, 2018
Mature
"Stab, Twist, Kill."
I have been trained to do the words above without hesitation. What am I? I am an assassin. My stance in Dylatia has taught everything I know, from a simple, yet deadly kick, to more than a hundred ways to stab someone, and decimate them in seconds. I thought I knew everything, until HE appeared: "Darkfyre." Cold, sarcastic, and tough. The epitome of a quintessential assassin. His skills are impeccable, and his personality a mystery; no one would have suspected him of having a thrilling life, or at least I thought so until everything changed. They are now chasing us, hunting us down, and all we can do is run, and protect ourselves, while fighting to recover the freedom they dared wrench from us. We are few who are still loyal to each other, but to be realistic, no one can be trusted, not even our closest friends... not even Darkfyre.
The way out of this quandary, is still a uncertain, and I fear I'm actually encased inside an endless game where I'm meant to lose my sanity and eventually die, but for now, I'm not giving up, I'm not giving them what they want, and I'm going to fight my way out, even if it means perishing in the process. I am Lilith Grey, and this is just the beginning, of my story.
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Reaping The Red Heir

51 parts Ongoing Mature

He smiled. The devil himself couldn't have crafted a more wicked grin. "What do you say we play a game, little Reaper?" I narrowed my eyes, trying to decipher his intentions. "What kind of game?" His grin widened, showing the tips of his fangs. I watched the prince curiously as he strode over to his bag. With a swift motion, he withdrew a bow and a quiver of arrows, flinging them at my feet without so much as a second glance. I furrowed my eyebrows, casting him a look of uncertainty. That sinister grin stayed plastered upon his lips as he said, "Run." *** I, Skyla Ashforth, am what some might call a "sociopath." It was a title that fit. Why shouldn't I embrace it? I am a vampire slayer, a Reaper of bloodsuckers, and an exceptionally good one, if I do say so myself. Yes, being a sociopath has its perks; I could manipulate and deceive with the best of them. So, when captured by the notorious Red Prince, I embraced the challenge of manipulating my freedom. Pierce Darcee, was a sadistic vampire with a God complex. The fool actually believed he could break me. Little did he know, I was the kind of Reaper who would dance through a battlefield, whistling a merry tune as I twirled my braids. I relished the challenge of manipulating his oversized ego, planning to stab that rotting, blackened heart of his with a venom-laced dagger. I crafted a scheme so delightful, so intricate, that I couldn't help but salivate at the prospect of victory. It was foolproof, or so my mind believed. But then... then there was that pull. That unexpected, unwelcome spark that ignited something within me. Feelings, of all things! Now, that was a complication. Disgusting, messy feelings that could very well lead to my destruction. Or his. It was a dangerous game we played, but then again, the most thrilling ones usually are. *Rated M for Murder, Mayhem, and some profanity. Sorry but no smutty interludes. You've stumbled into a blood bath, not a bodice ripper.*