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God of Sleep: The Whisper of Slaughter

Reth is a ten-year-old poor kid living in the slums of Nairobi, Kenya. one day, he comes home to find his mother getting raped and men harvesting his little brother's heart. He stood there hopelessly as the men killed and raped his brother and mom, and a moment later, the men grabbed him and cut off his neck. As his soul fated into the abyss, he saw the murders enjoying the hearts of his loved ones. His life ended, at least that is how it should be, but he was reincarnated into hell and was bestowed a system with infinite possibilities. Hell had no entertainment or pleasure, and he couldn't indulge in his favorite hoppy, which was to sleep. He then decided to create a game and forced everyone to play. Don't even whisper his name, or you will meet something worse than death. He will start wars and kill without mercy, and in this life, he will not freeze in fear and protect what belongs to him. Warning: Do not read if you are lighthearted. {This book will be updated every Friday!!} -Have questions about my book? Contact me through Discord- https://discord.gg/b8J2hPK5 Disclaimer: the cover art isn't mine, and all right goes to their creator.

SophocleS · Jogos
Classificações insuficientes
16 Chs

Death

Yes, continue unlocking memories."

[Confirmed.]

I stood frozen to the ground; my heart began to beat faster than a car engine. The screams of my brother filled the room, and at that moment, the man on top of my mom got up and zipped his pants while her naked body lay there, emotionless. The man pulled out an object resembling a machete from his belt.

Then he turned his gaze to me and said with a big smile, "Kid, your mother's pussy deserves a trophy, but unfortunately, she has to die."

He rubbed his hands and started to massage the blade before licking it. Then he unzipped his pants, pulled out his penis, and peed on the blade's tip. My eyes witnessed the horrible scene, and tears of hate began to roll out. I wished everything was a dream--I needed to wake up from this nightmare. I closed my eyes and distanced myself from the devil's act, but when I opened them, the level of horror escalated.

The man was kneeling in front of my mother's still body. He lifted his hands and began to pray for the devil's good will.

"Boss, I don't know why we have to kill this heavenly pussy, but I hope her daughters inherited her flavors."

The man stopped his prayer, and his eyes turned dark. It seemed he had received an answer. He then began stabbing my mother's chest repeatedly, and a river of blood gushed out.. I watched as her limbs were torn apart. Every time he hit her, his smile grew larger. The little life remaining in her body had already begun to fade into the afterlife.

The man kneeled above my mother's dead body and continuously swung his blade; my stomach started to rumble and made unknown noises, and my eyes could no longer watch the acts of the devil. My body began to fall apart. I lost the strength to stand and collapsed to the ground while the man in pink spoke in a threatening tone.

"Boys, kill the rest of them, and make sure to harvest their organs after you do."

My body began to coil in fear, and my heart stopped beating. The atmosphere in the room became toxic when the man in pink spoke; his evil guardians smiled and stood above the dead body of my mother, each of them carrying a peeling knife. Each guardian grabbed a part of her arms and, in one motion, chopped her body into pieces. One of the men grabbed my mother's left chest and diced it until he'd made a square opening, from which he pulled her heart. The man got up and walked toward the man in pink, handing him my mother's heart.

"Boss, it's a clean one--you shall consume it before it gets dirty."

The man in pink looked toward the one who killed my mom. Then he took the heart, grabbed a white scarf and laid it over his hands, and said, "You spoke the truth. This bitch is a special one."

The man in pink began to enjoy eating my mother's heart, and his eyes grew bigger with every bite. He signaled his henchman.

Instantly, the men in black turned to me, and some hidden figures began to appear. Now there were ten of them. They started their approach toward me, and one of them wore a red mask.

Today I was going to die, not due to hunger or drugs, but at the hands of the devil.

"How much money did my father borrow to have all of us killed?"

The man in pink smiled and said.

"Your dad owns me 59,535shillings, an equivalent to $500."

Money was the root of evil, but this man wasn't in it for the money--rather, he enjoyed the act of cannibalism.

At that moment, the screams of my brother stopped suddenly, and his body slumped to the floor. The man in the mask soon carried a box containing his heart and liver. The men circled me, all except the one wearing the mask. He walked toward the man in pink and handed him the organs of my .

"This time, the harvest is a great one, my lord--after today's ceremony, we will meet him."

"I hope so. I have given him too many sacrifices. It's about time he showed up."

They started to talk about someone or something. Their conversation didn't make sense, and I didn't care. The footsteps of death were closing in. The nine men dressed in black carried knives with the blood of my brother and mom on the tips of the blades. Then the man in pink made an announcement.

"Satan, please, enjoy the feast I have prepared for you."

It wasn't surprising that he prayed for the devil--people in slums had no faith in God or had lost it. God never answered their prayers. Why should they believe in him? But this was different from the nonbelievers who disliked God for giving them a horrible life--this man wanted to summon Satan.

The masked man approached me, pointing his knife toward my throat. The blade slowly grew closer, and my body started to shake. Death descended toward me, taking the form of a bloody knife. I attempted to escape, but in the end, It was too late. The masked man grabbed my hand and quickly launched the knife toward my neck.

"Sorry, Reth. I will make sure you don't feel any pain and end it quickly."

I didn't know why he apologized, but his blade quickly snapped my neck. I tried covering the wound, but the blood flowed like a water fountain. My body temperature dropped to negative, and darkness replaced the image of the devil. I lost balance and dropped to the ground, facing the masked man. He slowly took the mask off his face.

When I saw his identity, I began to hate everything. They say happy memories come in waves when someone is about to die, but mine were everything but happy ones, and the more I remembered the happy memories I'd shared with this man, the more my empty heart shattered. I managed to utter his name before my eyes came to close.

"Uncle Steve."

[Memories of Reth Kennedy have been completed.]

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