For ages, the harmless, resting form and grave of five sisters-a beautiful, tidy house has stayed silent, and undisturbed. Suddenly, this house is broken into by outlaws. There are set out conditions for humans to reside within this house, but unaware of the consequences if the rules are broken, and the powers that reside within the house, these outlaws cause further damage, thereby awakening the sleeping powers within the house. These powers, hungry, itchy, and thirsty, feast on these men and regain their strength. As they release themselves, and find their way out into the world, their new assignment becomes finding, stalking, and hunting those who buried them in here, locked them inside the house, and eventually turned them into the house, and their tone to man is one man deems unfair.
It was ghost quiet when the killings began. The popping of gunfire accompanied by the terrified shrieks of dying men, women, and children filled the air and reached into the night like a hand calling for aid, or something. But this only brought joy to the outlaws responsible for the sordid acts.
However, while these outlaws laughed, scorned, and reveled in the deeds their hands had wrought, they were unaware that they had awakened something damned and hopeless. Something that shouldn't be disturbed in the house of silence, not far from the killing square.
Hope sprang in this house, and her tidy walls did rattle with joy. It was the most the house could do, for if she was capable of more, her silver and goldwares, plates, and cups would have left their racks and cupboards to make high-pitched sounds. Beds, sofas, stools, chairs, and tables would have joined in, causing a ruckus to attract attention. But this was a house that was not to be noticed. A house cursed to create nothing but whispers. A house that wasn't a house.
Outnumbering the town's people five to one, the outlaws concluded the killing, cutting the last of their victims to pieces, and sharing the meats with their colleagues. But something in the walls of this house was watching, something that loved them not.
It had grown quiet again, save for a few shouts and laughter here and there. Then, the men went into a festive spirit. The house not far away grew disappointed, and it felt its hope dashed to pieces.
"They will find us," came a whisper in the night, one spoken with hope.
This was a whisper with a mind of its own. A creature like a voice, unable to be seen, or felt, but one able to see, feel, and smell. It was the whisper of a being called Rose Steele, and she was currently one of the captives of the house of silence, the very body of the house itself.
This was what time had done to Rose and her sisters. This was what a curse had done to them against their will. But a whisper had been sent. A feeling of hope to be restored.
Rose perceived the stench of these men. They reeked of trouble and death, a smell that only made her salivate. Peace clung to her, but she desired trouble. Rose had sent out this whisper to have a closer look, and a closer feel of these men, then to invite them in.
She wanted it to fill them with just enough lust and want like she did other unwavering passersby who already knew and recognized her. But these men had destroyed them, well, a few, and she had come to guide these men, these fresh bloods who didn't know her, to her. Maybe it was a weak trial, but they were men, and lust, no matter how weak, always did seem distracting to men.
Standing three feet from the leader of the bandits was Rose, and she watched him savor the chopped-off human bodies before him. These chopped-off bodies were once the unwavering town's people who knew and avoided her, but they didn't matter now. At least, there was no one to warn these men.
Blood to these outlaws was sweet, and the leader, he had blood dripping to his beards from the meat he chewed. One of the bandits approached the leader.
"We've found one," he said.
Rose looked in the direction of the house. It was the only house no one, or anything would dare go into, not even dirt, or disorder. Silence, peace, and tidiness lived there, and ever-changing had this house been for millennia. All who saw it and wrote about it always said the same thing. It was a tomb to avoid. Maybe a house, but a tomb, and unlike any other house, this one was alive.
The leader gave the order for them to storm the house.
The bandits moved in the direction of the house with the man who had scouted it in the lead, and their leader joined them with his meal abandoned. It was all Rose could do to keep her smile from bursting out. She glided over the men through the night, returning into her body, waiting for her guests, hoping to play host.
"Wake up, sisters," Rose whispered. "They've found us."
Rose felt her sisters wake up.
The bandits reached the house in no time, and with a crash, the entrance door fell to the floor.
"Wait," Rose whispered to her sisters. "Wait. We mustn't lose them this time. We must act as great hosts." This wasn't their first attempt. For centuries, they had tried and failed to achieve freedom. Today, it was possible.
Rose perceived the men when they walked in, and so did her sisters. They were silent, watching, waiting, and hoping to take in more than dirt on the sole of the feet of these men.
"It's so tidy," one man said. "I doubt I've ever seen any house this neat before."
"And well arranged," another said.
The leader walked in. "Search the house, kill anyone inside, and take everything of value."
"Ouch," one of the bandits said abruptly. "I touched the wall and it cut my hand. Is that supposed to happen?" He raised his bloody hand to show his colleagues and the leader who had turned to look at him.
"Maybe, you have baby hands," the leader joked.
Some of the men laughed.
The wounded man did nothing to conceal his injury as blood not so slowly leaked out. Instead, he shook his hand, and drops of blood touched the floor. Unnoticed by these men, these drops of blood were absorbed into the floor.
The sisters were now at full strength.
"Now," Rose whispered.
A hand reached out from the wall and dragged a man inside, leaving no cracks or any opening to where it had dragged the man into, other hands reached out from the floor, ceiling, sofa, and table, making the unfortunate men shriek, letting their colleagues know.
Dread filled the air and the core of these men like a thing alive, and it appeared on their faces with bewildered expressions mingled with terror. Their hearts thumped fast in hopes to leave their chests.
Hands reached out again from the door, mirror, cupboard, window, and curtain, collecting a new set of victims. Some of the men tried to run out, but the floor held them fast while they screamed their hearts out.
As if realizing what was happening, the leader shouted, "Fire!"
Rapid gunfire rang in the house, the men fired at the floor, walls, ceiling, and everywhere that they had seen a hand. Those outside tried to come inside to give aid when they realised the ones inside seemed to need help. But there was no need, for as soon as it had begun, the house was no more, and they were all standing exposed under the night sky.
It was a mystery how the house disappeared. It was like it was never there, to begin with. Worse, no one could see the five lurking shadows with different colours of hair. They couldn't have seen them anyway, for darkness unlike any other suddenly settled around them, causing them to shriek to the bites, the rips of flesh, the dread that enveloped them.
Every man had his voice and hands raised, groping in the darkness, hoping to escape the pain. But soon, every man's voice was silenced as the darkness lifted, and all that remained was the night. All that was left of the site were lots of scattered bones, five beings gently stirring, and more terrifying whispers, whispering.
Then the distinct, cold whisper of Rose Steele came, and it said, "Now, let's find them."
Tim is drawn to his alluring neighbor, Cynthia, whose charm ignites a spark during a rainy evening chat. A seemingly innocent exchange quickly escalates into charged texts and an invitation for cuddling. Unaware that Cynthia is married, Tim steps into her home, anticipating passion but walking straight into a web of illicit desires and dangerous secrets not knowing who really Cynthia is.
Right after his first encounter with The Secret, Grey enjoys the comfort of his home when he is called back to service to serve The Secret, a force he can't say no to. This time, she gives him various tales, like avenging the dead, and his favourite, looking after Helen.
After a sex filled night with a beautiful, strange lady, Elvin is torn between eagerness to say goodbye to this lady, and the desire to have one more feel of last night when the government declares a lockdown. He finds himself trapped inside his home with her, and just like him, she also wants more experiences like last night, although, through a series of games.
Worried with his wife's views about sex, and her refusal to let him please her the way a woman should be pleased, Karl refuses to give her the one thing she so desperately needs, which is a child. This sets him on a path to distract himself, leading him to an unlikely fellow, his first love.
She is one who loves fiercely, but it always ends badly for her lovers. One boy upsets her pattern of love crisis, and she would rather leave him, than destroy him. However, there's more to this boy than she realizes.
On her wedding day, Khloe’s sister connived with her groom, framing her for a crime she didn’t commit. She was sentenced to three years in prison, where she endured much suffering. When Khloe was finally released, her evil sister used their mother to coerce Khloe into an indecent liaison with an elderly man. As fate would have it, Khloe crossed paths with Henrik, the dashing yet ruthless mobster who sought to alter the course of her life. Despite Henrik’s cold exterior, he cherished Khloe like no other. He helped her take retribution from her tormentors and kept her from being bullied again.
The dream of everyone with regards to marriage is to be able to find that special someone and settle down with them. Even arranged marriages grant you an opportunity to meet your partner briefly before the wedding. How will you feel about waking up in the morning with someone sleeping next to you who is not just anyone but your legally married partner yet with no memory of how that had happened in just a few hours of going out the previous day? This is the story of Jason Haward and Julia Harrison, two strangers trapped in a marriage they never planned. The quest to find out why led to the unfolding of a mystery which made them realize they are both living a lie. To find out more, read this amazing story of love, betrayal, revenge and murder.
"Never let anyone treat you like shit!" I learned that the hard way. For three years, I lived with my in-laws. They didn't treat me as their son-in-law but as a slave. I put up with everything because of my wife, Yolanda Lambert. She was the light of my life. Unfortunately, my whole world came crashing down the day I caught my wife cheating on me. I have never been so heartbroken. To have my revenge, I revealed my true identity. I was none other than Liam Hoffman—the heir of a family with trillions of dollars in assets! The Lamberts were utterly shocked after the big reveal. They realized what fools they had been for treating me like trash. My wife even knelt down and begged for my forgiveness. What do you think I did? Did I take her back or made her suffer? Find out!
Everyone was shocked to the bones when the news of Rupert Benton's engagement broke out. It was surprising because the lucky girl was said to be a plain Jane, who grew up in the countryside and had nothing to her name. One evening, she showed up at a banquet, stunning everyone present. "Wow, she's so beautiful!" All the men drooled, and the women got so jealous. What they didn't know was that this so-called country girl was actually an heiress to a billion-dollar empire. It wasn't long before her secrets came to light one after the other. The elites couldn't stop talking about her. "Holy smokes! So, her father is the richest man in the world?" "She's also that excellent, but mysterious designer who many people adore! Who would have guessed?" Nonetheless, people thought that Rupert didn't love her. But they were in for another surprise. Rupert released a statement, silencing all the naysayers. "I'm very much in love with my beautiful fiancee. We will be getting married soon." Two questions were on everyone's minds: "Why did she hide her identity? And why was Rupert in love with her all of a sudden?"
"You're mine, little puppy," Kylan growled against my neck. A soft gasp escaped my lips as his lips brushed my skin. My mind screamed at me to push him away-the Lycan Prince who had humiliated me again and again, but my body betrayed me, leaning into him before I could stop myself. He pressed his lips against mine, and his kiss grew more aggressive, more possessive as I felt my legs weaken. What was I doing? In a split-second, I pulled away and slapped him hard across the face. Kylan's eyes darkened, but the smirk on his lips exposed his amusement. "You and I both know we can't fight this, Violet," he said, gripping my wrist. "You're my mate." "And yet you don't want me," I replied. "You told me you were ashamed of me, that l'd never be your queen, that you'd never love me. So please, accept my rejection and let me go." "Never," he whispered, his grip tightening as he pulled me closer. "Soon enough, you'll be begging for me. and when you do-I'll use you as I see fit and then I'll reject you."
"You're a creepy bastard." His eyes smolder me and his answering grin is nothing short of beautiful. Deadly. "Yet you hunger for me. Tell me, this appetite of yours, does it always tend toward 'creepy bastards'?" **** Widower and ex-boss to the Mafia, Zefiro Della Rocca, has an unhealthy fixation on the woman nextdoor. It began as a coincidence, growing into mere curiosity, and soon, it was an itch he couldn't ignore, like a quick fix of crack for an addict. He didn't know her name, but he knew every inch of her skin, how it flushed when she climaxed, her favourite novel and that every night she contemplated suicide. He didn't want to care, despising his rapt fascination of the woman. She was in love with her abusive husband. She was married, bound by a contract to the Bratva's hitman. She was off-limits. But when Zefiro wanted something, it was with an intensity that bordered on madness. He obsessed, possessed, owned. There'd be bloodshed if he touched her, but the sight of blood always did fascinate him. * When Susanna flees from her husband, she stumbles right into the arms of her devilishly handsome neighbour with a brooding glare. He couldn't stand her, but she needed him, if she was ever going to escape her husband who now wanted her dead. Better the devil you know than the angel you don't. She should have recalled that before hopping into Zefiro's car and letting him whisk her away to Italy. Maybe then, she wouldn't have started an affair with him. He was the only man who touched her right, and the crazy man took no small pains in ensuring he would be the last.