Golden Embers

Golden Embers

  • WpView
    Reads 392
  • WpVote
    Votes 24
  • WpPart
    Parts 2
WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing8m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Jan 27, 2026
My life was a lie, my reality burning away right in front of me. This was not the life I knew. All of the lies of my life were falling into place, like ash falling to the ground. Maybe I was doomed from the start to be condemned to this hell? Was this my fate? To simply rot away to nothing? To become the very thing that I hate? The villain? I never meant for any of this to happen. I never meant to kill them, to doom them all to death. As I stood there watching everything burn, I knew this was yet the end of my story. I knew I would rise and get my vengeance. I wiped my bloody hands against my shirt and kneeled against the ground. I cradled the dead body of my mother in my arms, her vivid orbs glazed over devoid of all life.I sobbed silently as I held her, wondering why this had happened. I held her pale, ash covered hand close to my chest, clenching my eyes shut. I didn't have her for long, but I knew I loved her. Was fate really this cruel to give me someone to love only to snatch their life away at a mild inconvenience? I was bound to such cruelty in this life. I never had the strength to save her but I would find the strength to kill the one that did this. I held her closer as her body turned cold. I threw my head back, the smoky plumes meeting my vision. I let out an earth shattering scream as my world collapsed around me. (Rough Draft)
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • Reaping The Red Heir
  • Soul
  • The Chronicles of Earth and Time
  • Silk Skin and Smoke (Age Gap)
  • Wild Hearted
  • 0° Celsius :To Thaw A Frozen Heart ( Sample)
  • Forgotten
  • Flaming Grace
  • HOUSE OF FIRE

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.*

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines