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MrsKreuger

  • Unlocked Chapters: 1.2K
  • Novel Reviews: 9

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  • Author: Makuisse
  • Status: Completed
  • Age Rating: 18+
  • 👁 3.4K
  • 7.5

"You don't have to, not when you are willingly offering yourself to the devil himself" he moves round, circling her. " And you know what he's capable of doing, torture is what he's good at" "If I am standing before the devil himself, then" she paused before continuing, "I am ready to ride into his heart" she was bold. " You don't seem to be scared of darkness, do you? " He tilts his head to the side. " Not when I've spent every second in darkness," She said trying so hard not to cry. " I am ready to be consumed by the darkness in hell, to be bound to you for as long as I live and afterlife if only you make me yours! "She spoke out in a confident and decisive tone. " Little bunny," he was more than amused, " you don't make a deal with the devil! " He warns. That didn't scare her, as she spoke out." I already have" He let out devilish laughter, as the building vibrated in response as if experiencing an earthquake. His gaze travels back to the bunny, " SHE IS MINE!" His tone was so firm, claiming her before the Mafia Lords. Audrey Shawn is a nineteen year old girl who has always believed in the love of family, not until she was sold by her dad, the same person who was meant to protect her. She was broken, but nothing aches her more than the thought she was about to be sold to the highest bidder. Willing to take the chance, she willingly offers herself to a man she hasn't met before, beckoning to her, he was the devil himself. What will happen when she finds out that she's crossed a deal with the devil and can't find a way to escape?

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  • 👁 36.5K
  • 9.5

When I was a child, my grandma used to tell me stories. At the time, I never gave them much thought. Thinking they were just that… stories. Growing up, I soon realized that they weren’t lofty fantasies and fairy tales but memories of her past, memories of our ancestors before our world turned to sh*t. You see, what comes from legend, no matter how exaggerated the story becomes, there is always a sliver of truth. You just need to weed out the fiction from fact. My grandmother used to tell me stories of the Chosen One—the one who would save us all. When I was younger, I used to believe that what she said was true. Eventually, someone would be born, just as the Oracle predicted—someone who could save our souls and bind us back to our magic. Once I grew up and saw the world unfolding around me, I no longer believed in salvation. The chosen one seemed to be more of a prayer than reality. Some dream we wanted desperately to come true. Something in which we needed to find hope when there wasn’t any left. When our ancestors turned their backs on us, how were we expected to believe in this so-called salvation? Especially when all we witnessed was death and carnage ever since the great war. Nothing except pain and poverty. I used to believe the stories and used to pray for the mysterious chosen one that would rid our world of its evil. Now, though, I see it for what it really is, just a dream of hope. Some out of reach fairy-tale. A story to create hope. Hope is dangerous; it makes you believe things will get better. I stopped hanging on to hope when I witnessed firsthand that it caused nothing but heartache.

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Heroes

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