오컬트 の小説・ストーリー

“One day, Kyle, your secrets are going to get us both killed.” “But not today.” “No. Not today.” Mordecai tucked the napkin into his coat. “I’ll look into it. But you—lay low. No more heroics. No more fires.” “Understood.” Mordecai vanished, leaving behind the scent of ozone and worry. Hannah’s Room — 11:15 PM Hannah couldn’t sleep. The book lay open on her bed—“European Heraldry & Occult Symbolism.” She’d found the crest. The Dracul crest. And others—Supremo. Reaper. Skyler. The Beast Shifter.

Arthur stepped into the conversation, looking from Megan to Dennis and back with a confused expression. Megan looked to Dennis. It was time to tell the truth, she made her face tell him. "Alright, Miss Months." He waved her go ahead. "The truth, Mr. Dean, is that we have reason to believe that the group behind all of this chaos- the Nameless, they call themselves- has a mole inside Olympus; and not just here but in other organisations too like Ricardo DiSanto's Os Buscadores, and his friend Samuel Jordan's weapon smuggling ring.

Elric stopped at a page with a brown smudge across the bottom, which held a recipe titled "Lich Eternal". It was a horrible spell calling for items Aelfric had never heard of, not to mention a hefty blood sacrifice. It called for something called "Claimed Chimera claw", and "Horbus Moreas pollin". He could hardly make out the directions, but the notes scribbled at the bottom of the page read "Consciousness lost 8 hours. Eyes bled briefly upon waking. Stimuli are strange. Hard surfaces feel malleable, I am unbreathing, though my heart beats still.

I needed more tincture to prevent my mate from recognising me and I also wanted to ask the witch about Liberty. When I mentioned Liberty' and the connection I felt with her the crone cackled and I swear her left eye shimmered. A shudder goes down my spine. Olwyn makes me very uneasy. Not only is she crooked and boney, her left eye is mother-of-pearl coloured, no iris or pupil, just one multi-coloured white-ish ball. Her right eye is dark brown, almost black.

Then, using the remaining lamb’s blood, the offeror needs to write a specific set of incantations on the human sacrifice, then the sacrifice will be stabbed 13 times in the abdomen while the offeror chants the same incantations written on the sacrifice’s body. Gertrude finishes reading the book out loud and then glances at Velmont. Both have the same look on their faces. Excitement and bewilderment. Then in unison, they said, “The relic is a hoax.” With that, both of them sat on their chairs and slowly slouched as they needed to search for a new view of the case. They were lost in their thoughts as if they had their own world. None spoke for a good few hours. None moves. They look like they

Then, he looked into the darkness of the room's corner, missing the cold touch that made him feel alive. He couldn't choose. But he had to do something. Carefully, he slid out of bed, trying not to wake Kit. He grabbed his phone and crept into the living room, closing the bedroom door softly. His mind raced back to their daytime research. They had found an occult forum discussing the legend of Morat. An anonymous user had mentioned a "Ritual of Old Blood Banishment," but the details were deliberately concealed, only stating that it required "cursed blood" and "pure intention."

Claude found a few books on witchcraft that she had never seen before, and Nuella showed her a few books on magic that she had acquired over the years. As they were about to leave the room, Claude noticed a small book sitting on a shelf all by itself. It was old and worn, with a black cover that had been embossed with a strange symbol. "What's this?" Claude asked, picking up the book. Nuella's eyes widened as she saw the symbol. "That's the Necronomicon," she said, her voice low. "You shouldn't touch that." Claude looked at the book and felt a shiver run down her spine. She had heard of the Necronomicon before, and she knew that it was said to contain dark and dangerous magic.

Lil Joe hadn't yet recovered from the effect of the water and the countless remnants of salt that picked away the tiny bits of his open flesh, tearing him up into tiny bits, life and energy slowly slipping out from his lips as he tried telling himself to normalcy. “Light him up!” I gave the command, dramatically snapping my fingers in the air. It didn't take a second more until I heard the sound of the colts of electricity, flowing from its underground channels, leaving its footprints as it raced down to it's Final Bus Stop, “The Confessor”. “Three!” “Two!”

She muttered sorry before walking to the back of the line. I placed my bag on the floor next to me and crouch down, pretending to tie my perfectly tied sketchers. Without anyone noticing, I opened the small piece of paper Kelly dropped into my pocket earlier. "3 wolves 1 eagle, 4th front, 2nd 3rd 7th behind, b careful" Translation... "3 assassins and one spy; 4th person in front of me; 2nd, 3rd, and 7th person behind me; be careful"

Marcus cast his eyes down as his shame covered him like a new winter’s coat. “ For now,Noah, please just trust me.” For a while after Noah left his room, Marcus stared up at the ceiling, feeling like the lowest form of life for lying to his best friend. How could he possibly explain to him that his dad and new girlfriend were being haunted by an ancient spirit, the same one who haunted his gran and her sister years before? “ Hello Marcus.” The voice which suddenly interrupted his thoughts, was melodious and familiar. Marcus looked to his side and by the light of the moon beaming through the window, he saw her.