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Bath Of Death

[MATURED CONTENTS] 'If this polluted WORLD yields to be clean and justifiable, I'll become the WORLD itself and make them bow to I, Harriet' ~~~ Harriet Hawthorn. ------ "Even in death, you are to become my bride. If you disappear, I'll become darkness for you and bring you back. This is my vow - to you, my love" He had proclaimed sincerely as he watched her pale smile. She was yet to speak when a twist from her stomach attacked her. She held his passionate eyes, and there it was, her bitter smile - one that spoke of pain. She had wanted to speak, and the moment that happened, a puddle of blood escaped her lips. "I love you" And there she fell. ---- A land that grooms skeletons in the face of death. Nobility and prejudice ruling over fairness. A land where aristocracy baths on the weakness of the upper class. The creatures bathed in the cloth of debauchery. Being towed from a baker's daughter to the stepchild of a noble Lord, then to a bandit. Harriet had fairly understood the world of her land. A place that stepped on the loyalty of the feeble and chewed their spirits. Harriet knew she could not stop the discrimination. The only form to live was to play mind games and pretend to be blind. In between her journey, she enters the House of Oregano. A house bathed with sinful beasts. She had intended to just win their trust, trample upon it and leave herself in jeopardy. Sadly for her, on the first day into the house, she had unknowingly bathed herself with trouble when not just one, or two, but three foolproof red eyes erred to liberate her from their bondage. Harriet must build herself and get revenge for all of the deaths caused by these so-called creatures. But when a certain bridge is preventing her from that? She must face the consequences of her actions. ---- Please add to your libraries. One chapter per day. NOTE: THE COVER ISN'T MINE. CREDIT TO THE CREATOR.

Rainism_11 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
79 Chs

One Cruel Fate

Five years went by since the tragedy that befell the land of Roselake. The season that radiated warmth, optimism, and positive energy, in time, embodied to be temperate, snowy, and bejeweled with frost.

In times, the trees - the antler-shaped branches with mint-green leaves, bloomed to a paradise-green, and the branches like Neptune's fork, to a bonfire-reds and sunflame-gold and sprouted to have become bare of a leaf. Meaning old, deflowered leaves withered in the trees as years went by.

They got taller and stronger.

It was early in the morning, stretching to sunset where the sun was still bathing in color. As hours ticked one after the other, the day began for the merchants and traders to a beautiful Tuesday morning.

Conquered by the Empire of Devonshire, Roselake now becoming one of its subordinates, had left Heathmoor as a whole.