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The Sanguine Sisters

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  Once under the shadow of the moon, in the heartland of a city disillusioned by reality, a gathering took place. The air echoed with the macabre melodies of Black Metal; the vibration of the music seemed to pulsate with the heartbeat of every dark soul present. This was the realm of Sanguine Sisters, a group of young, intoxicating females drawn together by a macabre blend of Hippy-Goth witch aesthetics and the intoxicating allure of a secretive cult. As the discordant symphony raged on, the Sisters darted their eyes over the crowd, hunting for their next victim, their holy offering to the dark goddess they worshipped in hushed whispers and blood-soaked rituals. Lydia, the leader with her fiery eyes that harbored a destructive twinkle, locked onto her prey. A wiry, long-haired man wearing an obscure band's shirt. He was lost in the music, unaware of the terrible fate that awaited him. "Is this the one?" asked Sera, a sinewy figure clouded in an aura of deep melancholy....
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Isabelle, The Witch

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Isabelle, The Witch Chapter 1       The dimly lit room was filled with anticipation as the door creaked open, revealing a silhouette against the backdrop of muted colors . The soft glow of candlelight cast shadows on the walls. A cool spring breeze slithered through the blue curtains, the faintest touch of air skimming her skin like the whisper of a lover’s breath, promising more yet holding back. The room didn’t just smell like jasmine anymore—it smelled like her. Like heat and skin and something feral. It was the kind of scent that ruined marriages and started religions.   The chill of the polished floor sent a sharp shiver up her bare legs, a reminder of the frenzied warmth building within her. In the flickering candlelight, her nakedness is illuminated, a visual testament to her vulnerability and desire. Her presence was a magnetic force, an aura so potent that it seemed to bend the air around her, pulling every eye, every breath toward her as if the room itse...
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