Killer Sans Soul の小説・ストーリー

"Yes, there are some who want money. Some who are just plain crazy. Some who like killing for the sake of it." I know where this is going. "And some who want to kill just because they hate non-humans?" She nods. "Yes. They're called purists." "So, the Silver Hunters have all these different factions within the group... And no one knows anything about them?" "Not until they're in your face." Alice stops walking. "Until it's too late." Ice fills my veins, and the wolf in the woods comes to mind. Was that a normal animal I saw? Or something else?

'She' said. "One by one, you followed everything up as it should be. Even your long time enemy who you had changed into a beast to wonder the face of the earth thought that he was going to have his revenge. Little did he know that we were only using him. And now he is dead and gone." 'She' said. "As beasts do not have souls." I said, completing her words. "And how about that herbal woman? I just laughed at her naive behavior. She hadn't even suspected a thing." 'She' said and laughed out loudly.

Overwhelmed with guilt, Kelson stumbled over her apologies, much to Sky's irritation, prompting her to instruct Jessica's aunt to shut her up and dismiss her. Once Sky was content with the silence, she revealed Kelson's impending fate due to the surrounding salt and crystals. Kelson, already aware of their significance, looked on. Jessica's aunt then began to chant a spell that horrifically ended Kelson's life, her flesh peeling away until only bones remained, which then turned to ash. Sky, pleased with the removal of a betrayer, thought of Max. Gazing out the window at playing children, a tear escaped down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, determined to show strength, not weakness.

However, what he did not know was that James the man with Stanley and Dennis had intended to keep him alive so that his boss Kyle would take his own sweet time to settle scores with him making the man who calls himself The Kill regret that he was ever born. Otherwise, The Kill would not have survived James's full wrath. The Kill as he calls himself was a foreigner. He was a very known assassin on the dark web. He was only eight years old when he was abducted and trained to be an assassin. Out of one hundred and fifty nine kids, he was the only one who made it out. Many feared his name The Kill as every time he is seen, he brings death. His victims are mostly big men and people in power. But

“I haven’t asked permission.” Jo’s eyebrows arched as she considered what she was hearing. “But… you’re a Vampire. Since when do Vampires ask permission for… anything?” “I’m a Souled Vampire,” he corrected, not angrily but sternly enough to get the point across. “We are not like other Vampires. You should know that by now.” “Granted. I’m sorry--I didn’t mean any offense. I was just thinking, if you could see what’s going on in Cassidy’s mind, maybe we’d get an indication as to whether or not this plan to get behind the shield was working or not.”

She hadn’t expected him to actually answer. Kael’s eyes stayed fixed on the horizonless sky above. “I don’t remember who killed me. An enemy, a friend, it doesn’t matter. What I remember is the moment before. Lying in the mud, the rain soaking into my wounds, and knowing it was over. I begged.” His lip curled, bitter. “Not out loud, but inside. I begged to go back. To do it differently. To make it mean something.” His grip tightened on the scythe until his knuckles went pale. “Instead, I woke up here. With a weapon in my hand and the Council telling me that begging means nothing.”

I do not know how long I played. But suddenly, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. A heavy, burning pressure prickled the air right behind me. My fingers faltered. The last chord died out. I turned my head. Killian was standing in the doorway. He was entirely shirtless. He wore only dark sweatpants that hung low on his hips. In the dim moonlight, he looked massive. Heavy slabs of thick muscle layered his chest and shoulders, pulling his skin taut. Violent silver scars wrapped around his ribs and torso. His chest was heaving slightly, his breathing harsh and heavy in the quiet room.

“How then do you explain why she threw you in a basement?’’ He smirks, hideously, tightening his grip on my windpipe. “I-I was waiting at our roost when she bumped in. I had… something important to tell…’’ “Silly.’’ He cut me, releasing my neck to brush a hand through his hair. “You don't get to decide when we meet at the roost. I decide that.’’ “I know, but it was urgent…’’ I say with shaky voice. “Listen, wolfless.’’ He glares. “I don't care about whatever you have going on. I'll never accept a wolfless traitor like you as my mate.’’ My heart rips, twisting in irreversible pain as tears prick my eyes. “I'm not a traitor.’’ “Your bloody father betrayed the pack, that makes you a traitor wit

When she calmed herself, she sighed, becoming sad again, then she raised the knife that flashed in the light, “this is for everyone you have ever caused pain. Let us start with me.” And in one smooth motion, she slit his throat. Blood sprayed across his chest. He tried to speak, but only gurgling sounds escaped his mouth. Karma climbed on the bed and stood over his head, placing her Christian Louboutin heels over his mouth, and with one forceful push down, she matched firmly on the ball in his mouth, causing it to enter his throat. The last thing Marcus saw was his daughter wiping the blade on his shirt, her cold, empty expression never changing.