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Signification Prenom Clemence

"Graveyard Of Souls: The Revenants of Clide and Clemence"

In the lush vineyards of France, Spencer Lefevre's life is one of opulence and rebellion. Disrespectful to his doting parents and blinded by love for his girlfriend Sophie, Spencer's world is turned upside down when a school trip to an ancient graveyard strands them in the midst of awakening horrors. As night falls, the couple is thrust into a terrifying ordeal where the undead rise, and a chilling legacy buried beneath the graves comes to light. Their fight for survival reveals petrifying secrets, leading to a gruesome fate that not even death can end. When Spencer and Sophie's souls become entwined with the long-dead Clide and Clemence, they are resurrected into a reality where their identities are lost, and their destinies are no longer their own. Now, they must navigate a world where the lines between life and death blur, and love battles the darkest of forces. Will their parents unravel the mystery of their children's disappearance? Will they recognize the strangers who look back at them with their offspring's eyes? "Graveyard of Souls" is a heart-gripping, menacing tale that will leave readers on the edge of their seats, desperate to uncover the truth hidden within the heartstones of the undead. Dive into this jaw-dropping narrative that intertwines love, disrespect, and the supernatural in a dance with death that is as harrowing as it is captivating. This is not just a story; it's an experience that will haunt you long after the last page is turned.
Ian_Tshakalisa · 7.2K Views

The Return Of The Serpent Goddess

[Mature Content, R18] "What are you doing in my bedchamber?" Eliana Winxx asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Go away, I have to practice." "What's the point of inbreathing sparks when I can eject ten fold of them in dense liquid?" Hades Costello Alarie, the mighty Dragon, and God, closed the door. "Entertain your husband and become powerful." .... In a sea of red roses, once appeared a gold bud, in a tree distinct from all. Moon poured all its platinum-gold beam on it, and mounting on the wheel of time, the flowerlet slowly blossomed. Just as youth birthed nectar in it, and the flower started secreting fragrance-filled oil, which was carried by the fastest element of nature for thousands of miles, bees from all around the continent began swarming over it. It's aesthetic beauty, heart-stirring allure and irresistible fragrance aroused adoration from all. Sadly, soon it was silhouetted by the shadow of bad luck that menacingly loomed over all its glory, and it ended up being the glamorous lure to all wing-flapping noises that robbed it of its own solace. With that, incessant, unwarranted and gratuitous dangers akin to shameless weeds commenced sprouting. Thickly overgrown, they were within an ace of suffocating the flower, shooting it with their vile deflowering attempts—time and again. The gold flower, only one of its kind, had to shed its clemency under great provocations. It concealed its sweetness, and armed itself with a coat of thorns. None could touch it, none could edge near to it, the ones did were instantly subjected to merciless punishment, ending their lives which had been sucked off life-force as a pulp of meat. This continued for eight hundred years until a crafty bee cast a brilliantly-weaved potent spell on it, and the spellbound flower loosened her grip on the guard. The consequence that soon came to bite it was that of ruination. The spell did break in the end. Nonetheless, just like a mirror coming in contact with a hard rock, the flower, dragging the full tree with it, broke into tiny shards and the debris flew miles away. Follow the flower in its journey to stand up again, seeking revenge and ascending the untouchable, venerated peak of goddesshood. ..... P. S: This beautiful cover isn't mine; I'm obliged to take it off, just as the owner demands.
The_Lazy_Kitten · 43.3K Views

The Crimson Hollow

In the shadowed realms of an ancient land, where secrets whisper and darkness reigns, a tale of intrigue unfolds. Delilah Fennessy, beguiling and enigmatic, her existence, a tapestry woven with threads of forbidden blood, casts her as an outcast in a world divided by power and lineage. A solitary soul, she treads the path of isolation, her heart weighed by the burden of her heritage. Amidst the currents of blood, burdens, and ancestral legacies, there ever existed times when Delilah could perceive the murmurs of the populace, weaving prophecies. Murmurs fed by religion and despair. It whispered of a figure, sometimes a name could be heard, a lot of names were born by the time Delilah grew up. The name of the one who would bring light by misery, the one who by blood would ease pain. The Harbinger of doom. A being of absolute light and pureness, a creation of God. Yet Delilah remained resolute in her skepticism toward these hollow fables and narratives devoid of clemency. Verily, this world stood bereft of the capacity to birth forth such resplendent light. In this opus of passion and darkness, where echoes of forgotten times reverberate through the corridors of the soul, only the shadows hold the answers, between dances of love and anguish shall unveil the truth that lies dormant in the depths of tortured souls. ♱ Curiosity mastering her, Delilah inquired; "Who are you ?", certainly, he replied; "What I might be cannot be defined." Bewildered, she surveyed him from head to toe, her mouth agape, her cheeks and lips rosied from weeping. The painting seemed as one of the most uncanny embroilments, depicting a tragic twist, Delilah’s tear-stained and bloodied fingers delicately still arranging her disheveled tresses, betraying a self-consciousness and awareness of her own appearance. Her soft voice daring to inquire the identity of the enigmatic man, even as she maintained her grip on the pistol, its aim unwavering. The irony unfolded as mere moments ago, she had been tearing at her own flesh, beseeching the divine to bring an end to her torment. She slowly swallowed her saliva, shame inundating her soul, she replied; "Your name alone suffices to define you, sir." He slowly ascended from his seat, he traversed, his back now towards her. And she knew better than to request names, but this being present here was no man, his scent was redolent of death and his hands were adorned with blood. "Names hold little meaning. But perhaps, I shall give it to you some other time."
jezestbelle · 2.9K Views
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