Story cover for Srathach by Calypso_rocks
Srathach
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    Reads 33
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    Parts 3
  • WpHistory
    Time 11m
  • WpView
    Reads 33
  • WpVote
    Votes 3
  • WpPart
    Parts 3
  • WpHistory
    Time 11m
Ongoing, First published Jun 12, 2016
Troubled all her life, Lilith Morgan has always found peace in reading and writing, among other things. When at home, where the only refuge is gone, she runs. Her Mother, Drew Stern, guides her along the way, pushing her thoughts towards violence, and a life of crime. Earning the nickname of Jane the Ripper, Lilith stays put, living up to what her Father wished her to be, a devil. 



  I take her limp body and place it on the metal table. She feels cold, like a corpse. I look at my tools, one by one, and pick my all time favourite. I hear my mother's voice again, telling me this is the right thing to do. I place the metal on a marble table, careful to not make any noise. I go to the opposite end of the room and choose the song. 'You are my sunshine' starts to play, and a smile plays across my lips. At the end of the song, a horrible scream escapes the girl's lips. I turn around and find her looking at me with beautiful blue-green eyes filled with fear and she is whispering "Please, don't" over and over again. Like every other time I've done this, it reminds me of my pleas to my Father not to hit me, not to touch me. I menacing sneer is plastered on my face as I lean down, reaching for the blade and whisper," Too bad.".  A horrible scream ensues, and suddenly, when I reach down Low enough, all is quiet. Her eyes are still filled with fear as the light drains away from them.
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Reaping The Red Heir by eden_ari
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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.*
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Slide 1 of 9
Reaping The Red Heir cover
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THE SACRIFICE (EXCERPT) (18+) cover
No Man's Land cover

Reaping The Red Heir

54 parts Complete 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.*