After the mysterious death of her parents seven years ago, Katherine Grayson had always felt a presence haunting her. Her life was normal and mundane like every other teenager until a series of unrealistic events along with the arrival of Lucas and Zach in school, two brothers, who seem to have secrets up their sleeves. While, Katherine's best friend, Cecelia Parker develops an inclination towards the charming and amiable Zach, Katherine finds Lucas enigmatic and dark which piques her curiosity and she is inexplicably drawn to him. Meanwhile, she meets Finn Marshall, who claims to be an old friend of her mother, and learns a secret about her parents past. Following this discovery, the truth about her true identity begins to unfold and she finds herself stuck in between a centuries old battle between the good and the evil.
Spring comes, April showers bring May flowers, and the sound of rain drenches the world. Just like the endless beauty of life, the budding flowers of the season remain fragile. Maria Springfield lives every day through slow monotones; a spotless, empty, apartment, and a clean life. She has come to terms with her growing emptiness, still unsure of just what meaning life has set for her, yet far from content. As if the rainy season a sign, she runs into a girl that seems to not only have her life figured out but also enjoys the seemingly mundane moments. A girl willing to drench herself in rain. "She had come like the wind and left much the same. Like the graceful fall of sakura leaves; beautiful and short, fragile and fleeting. Too, she was also the sound of rain." — Maria Springfield ___ Also available on Wattpad.
Pyrophilia, the intense love for fire, exhibited in very few people, and a lust for that which shall turn into ashes. Arson, the crime of setting something on fire, done often to escape debt, and a lust longed for by pyrophiliacs. Conflagration, a fire which destroys the most, happening not too often, and what pyrophiliacs could only dream of ever achieving. A trinity of fire, blazes, and inferno. I am Alexandre Ardere, a name I made for myself, and I give you my memoir, letter, and autobiography to the uncaring world. -§- Obviously a work in progress, and my first non-completely-a-joke story. And I owe the idea to sharing kinks in a group chat.
In 1888, four lives were chosen for a purpose. A purpose with no relation to Jack the Ripper. In the midst of the overpopulated hovels, lived Allegra Breton who seemed to carelessly flaunt Isa Dantè, a French origin of her times and also a wealthy businessman. Not aware of the suspicious deaths in the East End of London, she dreamt of becoming a prostitute but something always comes up. She electrically charges the world if she wanted to do. All she needed were water droplets and perhaps it was all present with Isa’s looks. Her body wasn’t meant for the Dantè; he knew it the moment he saw her, he was the same. In fact, he was the second of the four humans, or so called, most of the time and since their birth. He had it all. He had the muscles and powers. Most importantly, he owned his energy blasts. He took her hand and travelled instantly to Germany, a safer country. English in a foreign country, but something necessary always comes up. Howieda Edam and Ara Zachary, both intellects and of the exact purpose. That was how they made up the four of them. Howieda, an old woman, specialized in looking at photos and interpreting the people inside the frame. However, one thing no one understood about her was her ability to always be right about it. All written in the book, their lives were put together but something always seems too off when you’re too sure, right?
The stars were gleaming like diamonds in the horizon. One star seemed to glow more brightly as time passes by. It did not take long for Frederich to realize that the star was the Sun growing ever larger and rising from the bottom. The moon was slowly fading away from his sight, and a golden edge had formed around the Sun, appearing from the horizon and slowly influencing its neighborhood until all the stars submitted and the sky turned into a light blue from its original pitch black. Frederich sighed. Stars are not Suns, and no a star can hope to challenge the might of the Sun, unless the star transformed into a Sun, or the Sun broke its dominance through overextension in their vile pleasures of manipulating other stars. Either this or they break themselves through internal fragmentation. But then darkness would swallow everything up, and the stars left without the guidance of a Sun would be too fragile to resist.
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