Davis Maygrove was 24. He grew up in London.
He had short, black colored hair, brown colored eyes, and average height.
He wore a black colored, ruffled shirt, brown colored trousers, a black colored belt, brown colored socks, and black colored boots on his feet.
Once he was inside, Lillith smiled at him.
"And what brings you here?", she asked. "Riches", Davis answered. "Everyone has a price for that. How about your soul?", Lillith enquired. "No", Davis said, "...Just jewels, diamonds, emeralds, and rubies", Davis said. "We don't have anything for free. Your soul...or you die!", Lillith said.
"I don't want to die", Davis said. "Then you'll suffer", Lillith told him. And she grabbed a large pitchfork in her right, clawed hand, and rammed it into Davis's chest. Fresh blood gushed out of his mouth, and chest. And within a matter of seconds, he died in the middle of the lounge room, in agony.
~~~
Page 16
YOU ARE READING
The House of Dark Skulls A historical horror novel of terror
HorrorIn London, England, 1713, Lord Seamus Olsen, arrives at The House of Dark Skulls, a place so evil that no one dares to go unless they're mad. And, while he awaits the London Ball of Vampires and Demons, he meets Lady Edwina Carnavan, (a distant cous...
