For Whom The Bell Tolls It Tolls For Thee

Based on the untrue writings of the Satanic Panic. The Satanic Panic was a moral outcry in the United States over supposed “satanic” influence in media that were warping the youth of America. Claims that playing an elf in Dungeons and Dragons could lead to demonic possession, that playing heavy metal music backwards would reveal satanic messages, and that therapists could uncover repressed memories of satanic ritual abuse, were all too common. Volumes and volumes of material were produced on this fake subject. These texts lead to What Hell May Come, which takes a look at what the world would actually be like if all of the claims of the satanic panic were true. Set in 1986, Jon St. Fond’s life is a living Hell. Deliberately abused and neglected by his parents, the only joy he has in life is an escape into a fantasy land of role playing games. Soon he discovers that his parents are part of a secret occult religion with hidden ties all across the world. As Jon and his friends dig, they learn more of the secret history of the world and discover the power of making deals with creatures from Beyond. However, power has its price, as Jon and his friends quickly discover. One-by-one they begin to become consumed by their own desires and hatreds. Jon learns there is method behind the madness of his life, as his Father begins to bring him closer and closer into the ways of the cult. Ultimately, Jon must make a choice between all the pleasures of the earth and the future of his soul. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

A lethal neurotoxin had taken hold of my lungs. My time is running out. My mother, Sofia, was the most connected lawyer in Palermo, excelling in burying crimes and twisting the law. When my brother Vincent mowed me down and shattered my leg, she called in every favor to clear his record. My father, Tommaso, the most feared private doctor in Sicily, faked my medical files, branding me unstable and delusional, all to mold me into the obedient son they needed. Then there was Lina, only daughter of Don Vitali, my wife. She said, “We let him out for Vincent’s liver. What if he says no?” Dad’s voice went cold. “He has two choices: lie quietly on that operating table… or waste away in the sanatorium for what’s left of his life.” I pushed the parlor door open, steady and slow. My voice was flat. “I’ll do it.” Every one of them let out a breath they’d been holding, showering me with hollow words. They didn’t know there was no life left to threaten. I had twenty-four hours. By sunrise, I would be dead either way. Funny… now that I’m in the ground, why are they all crying?

During the height of the plague, Elizabeth is known for touching the dying without fear and for surviving longer than anyone should. The village calls her witch. Death calls her interesting. Malachor is a demon bound to plague and passing souls, ancient and cruel, intrigued by a healer who refuses to beg. When Elizabeth is condemned, thrown into a plague pit, and left to die, she calls out, not to God, but to the darkness watching her. He answers. Bound to a demon of death, Elizabeth survives… and is slowly claimed. Desire becomes devotion. Mercy becomes sin. A dark historical fantasy romance of plague, power, and forbidden surrender where love corrupts, salvation fails, and Hell is the only vow kept. TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING: This story contains mature themes and content intended for adult audiences (18+) Reader discretion is advised. It includes moments of violence, coercion and domination themes, sexual content and dark erotic elements, emotional trauma and moral corruption, blasphemous themes involving demons, faith, and damnation

Sienna Calder swore she’d never touch her father’s world—Dorian Ashford, shipping mogul and billionaire king, left her mom to rot while he built his empire. She’s there to curse his grave when he dies, not to claim a dime. But his will traps her, naming her co-heir to his $50 billion legacy alongside Roman Valtieri, the brooding, hard-edged protégé who’s clawed his way into Dorian’s shadow—and now into hers. They’re to run the empire together or lose it all, and Sienna hates him for it: too slick, too close, every look a spark she doesn’t want. Then a letter from Dorian’s cold hand ignites the fire—he was murdered, and Roman’s name’s scratched beside the truth. A silver key and a vial of blood—hers, his—drag her deeper, promising answers locked in Ashford estate.But the walls crash in fast: Ezra Locke, a scarred snake with a grin like a blade, wants that key, and he’ll drown the place to get it. Roman’s her lifeline—gun drawn, hands steady, pulling her from the flood—and she loathes how his touch burns, how his voice steadies her when the water’s at her throat. Caught between rage and a pull she can’t name, Sienna fights the heat growing with every near miss—Roman’s too damn solid, too damn close, and she’s torn between shoving him away and pulling him in. The empire’s crumbling, the cliff’s falling, and Ezra’s not the only shadow circling—something darker watches, waiting. Love’s a gamble when blood’s the stake, and Sienna’s playing with a deck her father rigged. Can she trust Roman’s hands to hold her up, or will the crown they’re fighting for crush them both in its ashes?

After Emily died, she encountered an entity called Death. Death's mission is to take Emily to her soul's destination but things took an unexpected turn. Will they find love with each other? Will they surpass all the challenges they will encounter? Learn how to love what you fear the most, with a romantic story that subverts all expectations and boundaries.

After the car accident, one of the Johnson sons was dead and the other gravely injured. When my devout, devoted husband woke up in the hospital, he called out, "Dorothy." He claimed that his body then held the soul of his brother, Elias Johnson. I went mad, calling doctors, priests, anyone I could, desperate to bring my husband back. It was not until that night that I overheard his conversation with our son: "Father, you've loved aunt for years. You even kept yourself chaste in your private prayer room, waiting. Now, finally, you can be with her openly." The man in the bed reached out to stroke our son's hair. "If it weren't to stop your mother from destroying her relationship, I wouldn't have married her." I hid in the shadows, still reeling from their words, when I saw what happened after our son left. The husband I had always known, icy, composed, and ascetic to maintain his devout faith for seven years, was then holding his sister-in-law close on that tiny hospital bed, sharing a warmth meant for lovers. The next day, I applied for Jim Johnson's death certificate and burned our marriage certificate. At his grand wedding, I climbed aboard the helicopter sent to fetch me. However, my once-cold husband went mad, chasing after us down several streets, desperate and unhinged.