A Quiet Time in Hell - H.R. Ardensen - Wattpad

A Quiet Time in Hell

Reads 72
Votes 0
Parts 42
Time 47m

Reads 72
Votes 0
Parts 42
Time 47m

afterlife angel deathandlife demons discussion heaven hell mythology shortchapters slowpaced

The Nine Circles of Hell have always been barren and cold. The frigid wind of the abyss had filled its caverns with death, dread, and silence. Yet in the frozen throne room where a demon of great power resides, a fire is lit between him and an unexpected guest. An immortal - an angel, clad in rusty armour,  named Dina sits beside the burning embers of the fire, sharing stories with him, and accompanying him as they spend a quiet time in hell

***

"How does an angel such as yourself come to be in possession of such rusty armour? In that regard, why would an angel even wear armour in the first place?" The curiosity in his voice trailed behind.

"I wasn't planning on coming here," she replied as she placed down her breastplate. "I got lost, really. Silly me. While trying to find my way out, I found myself deeper and deeper into your place."All Rights Reserved

afterlife angel deathandlife demons discussion heaven hell mythology shortchapters slowpaced

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Lawson's Tragedy by LunaMarieWolf

(Edited Excerpt From Chapter 1) Lawson's brows furrow in anger as he inhales, setting down the useless utensil. His arms stretch above his head, his bones cracking as his wings spasm, his groan echoing down the halls. He pulls his bag into his lap, the sienna hide contrasting happily against the azure gown on his frame. He pulls it open swiftly, a hand disappearing into it as he digs for another quill. A midnight feather taps the book in front of him, the boy freezing in place. The unsettling figure loomed over him, the energy of the being closing the air off in his lungs, his wings tightening around the chair immediately. He dare not look up, for the energy of the person made the hair stand up all over his body. His mind screamed to run, to get away from what- or whoever was offering up a worn quill to the lower-ranking angel. The boy hesitated, his eyes fixated on the inky black quill in front of him, the color so dark it consumed the light around it. He willed his lungs to draw in air, his eyes daring to look up at the intruder, but it was soon stolen a second time. Piercing emerald eyes peer down at the boy, his expression hard and unkind as a stray midnight strand of hair falls in front of his face. His skin is a lovely light olive tone, his skin etched with scars, some new and some still crusted with fresh blood. His wings stand at half-furl, the boy's eyes quickly wandering to them. The inky black feathers seem to twitch in annoyance, silver tendrils of metal reflecting the only light the wings did not consume. * * * * * * * * Lawson knows he should not get intertwined with an angel above his rank, but somehow life keeps tying the two together. Through war, love, loss, and hatred, will Lawson bend to the terrors tossed into his once peaceful life, or will he overcome the darkness and turn into the angel everyone should have feared?

The Inferno's Brethren (Second book of Seven Series) (Completed) by RissaleWriter

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The Devil's Mistake by 0SatansLittleAngel0

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Death is Looming by BrokenPetals228

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Chaos & Order by Sakkee91

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Slide 1 of 10

Lawson's Tragedy cover

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Lawson's Tragedy

(Edited Excerpt From Chapter 1) Lawson's brows furrow in anger as he inhales, setting down the useless utensil. His arms stretch above his head, his bones cracking as his wings spasm, his groan echoing down the halls. He pulls his bag into his lap, the sienna hide contrasting happily against the azure gown on his frame. He pulls it open swiftly, a hand disappearing into it as he digs for another quill. A midnight feather taps the book in front of him, the boy freezing in place. The unsettling figure loomed over him, the energy of the being closing the air off in his lungs, his wings tightening around the chair immediately. He dare not look up, for the energy of the person made the hair stand up all over his body. His mind screamed to run, to get away from what- or whoever was offering up a worn quill to the lower-ranking angel. The boy hesitated, his eyes fixated on the inky black quill in front of him, the color so dark it consumed the light around it. He willed his lungs to draw in air, his eyes daring to look up at the intruder, but it was soon stolen a second time. Piercing emerald eyes peer down at the boy, his expression hard and unkind as a stray midnight strand of hair falls in front of his face. His skin is a lovely light olive tone, his skin etched with scars, some new and some still crusted with fresh blood. His wings stand at half-furl, the boy's eyes quickly wandering to them. The inky black feathers seem to twitch in annoyance, silver tendrils of metal reflecting the only light the wings did not consume. * * * * * * * * Lawson knows he should not get intertwined with an angel above his rank, but somehow life keeps tying the two together. Through war, love, loss, and hatred, will Lawson bend to the terrors tossed into his once peaceful life, or will he overcome the darkness and turn into the angel everyone should have feared?