Amy Rose Dead 소설 & 이야기

Many roses. They found the first body in the kitchen. One of Roberto's men. Dead. With a black rose on his chest. "What…?" Dante whispered. "It's not our doing." They continued. Another body. Another. And another. All dead. All with their roses. “Is something happening?” Elena asked. Something we don’t understand. A noise. Behind them. They turned around. Roberto was there. Standing in the middle of the hallway, a pistol in his hand and a smile on his lips.

Gradually, she picked up a little rose and brought it to her nose, inhaling the soothing and fresh fragrance of it, she brought it before her gaze, and instantly the red rose turned a pitch black in her arms, and slowly, it faded into ashes and the specks of dust flee across the sky. "He was never like a rose, always been dark" she scoffed and picked up a sunflower, putting it into her basket with a smile. "It's either you come out or I came you" she turned sharply and her eyes flashed a furious shade of gold and a being appeared before her. Skin pale as the dead, pupils whitish and, hair pale, she frowned in contempt. "You are repulsing, Dya" The dead flesh scoffed. "I try to survive, Maye"

*Boom* Red Rose summoned all the strength within her body into her legs and pushed off the ground, exploding towards Village Head Samoa with so much power that the eyes of the undead which were not meant to show any emotion, narrowed in stern surprise; yet there was an even creepier reaction that took Red Rose’s focus away from Village Head Samoa’s eyes. For a maniacal smile that should have been impossible of an Undead, graced the lips pf the former general, and his bloodthirsty aura grew stronger. *BOOM*

I stored that information away for future reference now that I was going to a place completely filled with them. The salty air mixed with the rocking of the ship wasn't doing any good for my stomach so I headed back inside the ship. I stopped at my brother's level and spotted them at a dingy table playing a card game. Felix looked up and spotted me right away. Before I would have assumed that was because he was really aware of his surroundings but now I think it's more to do with his vampiric capabilities. "Hey, Rose, had enough of the salty air?" "Yeah. What are you guys playing?" I take a seat in the spare chair.

‘Hey why are you walking like the dead ones’? ‘The dead ones?’ ivory asked with question marks all over her face ‘what are those, are they zombies’. ‘I don’t know what zom…be is but the dead ones are an army of dead people created by dark witches five hundred years ago, the dead walks pretty slow but one scratch from them and you’re one of them too’ Natasha explained. ‘Definitely zombies’ ivory murmured. ‘So why are you walking like the dead ones’ Natasha asked. ‘Would you join my team, I’m creating a team with whom I would go to Buklime Mountain with to go gather some herbs and more importantly the ice lotus for merit points’

I saw shapes moving in the distance. Others were coming. Their steps were heavy like the earth itself. “R-Run…” It was the voice. That soft, cracked voice. This time—I looked down. And there he was. Rose. Bleeding. A spear stood proud in her chest like it had conquered her. Her blood ran onto me, warm as life, red as war. Even now… even dying, she told me to flee. “R-Rose… get up…” I tried to lift her hand.

echoed in my head again and again, tearing at what little pride I had left. But what could I do? He was Lucas Rodriguez—untouchable, arrogant, and dangerous. Tessa rushed in and wrapped her arms around me, guiding me back to my room. I was still crying when my phone began to ring. I sniffed, forcing my voice to steady, and answered the call. But the moment I heard what was said, my heart stopped.

“Is she dead?” Rosey asked. Adrian looked guilty. “I really don’t know if she’s dead or not. But what I do know ” he paused, his voice unsteady, “ I clearly saw Dante run her over. I don’t think she survived.” Rosey sighed. He was in Rosey’s room. She had started staying at Ashford’s mansion with Mrs. Ashford. Rosey looked at him and said, “Don’t feel guilty. After all, her husband did this to her. You only gave him her whereabouts and when she would leave work nothing much.”

But I still styled myself as a widow and presided over this simple ceremony. In a filthy, chaotic back alley, he had shielded me as we narrowly escaped death, telling me not to be afraid. On the day he first came into possession of his own turf, he had held me and spun wildly around a dilapidated dance floor, paying no attention to the music. On our wedding day, he had guided my hand as it traced the tattoo on his chest. It was my name. I raised my hand and touched the cold tombstone. John walked up to me with a box that contained a withered rose.

I knew better; the fish I gave her was boneless. Jane's lips trembled as she tried to steady her voice, "That's because the nurses cleaned her up before they brought her here." "Cleaned her up, huh?" My voice turned icy. "Then answer me this: after death, the body cools, starting with the limbs." I pressed down on my daughter's rigid arms and belly. "So why is her stomach colder than her arms and legs?" I yanked up her sleeve to reveal more than just cold skin. "Livor mortis already? That was fast."