PROJECT PEN [SEASON II]

SEMI- FINALS: SAMPLE STORY FROM A JUDGE

Hey cribberssss 🤭🤭. Well, here is the sample story given to our contestants by one of our judges. This story is written by none other than lovetori_xo

Well, here's the storyyyy 😗💖

ROMANTIC THRILLER SHORT STORY

"I love you, Victoria."

He said this to me with tears in his eyes, his voice wavering with emotions, and his hands, shaking, nearly trembling, as he held out his whole heart, bare, before me.

It was easy for a man to say those words to you, even if he didn’t mean it. I had my sheer experience of this, yet I didn’t learn. I refused to learn. I preferred to see truth in those bloodshot, twitching brown eyes of his’.

So, with a bitter sweet smile tugging at the base of my lips, and stinging tears burning my eyes, I believed him. With a thumb, I wiped off a lone tear that was dropping down my eye and watched the man I loved, weeping unendingly before me, telling me a million and one times everything he absolutely adored about me.

Abdulmajeed Ali Isah cried me a river as he told me he loved me.

I looked my sweet angel in the eyes, and nodded to his every word, assured. I had made myself believe over the years that nothing about those enthralling honey brown eyes could be deceitful. They held a lot of stories, a lot of love and an overload of sweetness. Right now, they held a lot of desperation - Desperation that was almost pain.

Who knew Love could be so sweet, yet so painful?

We had so many beautiful memories together. Memories to share. And we had pledged to make more.

An angel, he was. My sweet angel. I called him the love of my life when we made love, and he called me his sweetheart. And with those strong, yet tender hands of his, he caressed every inch and frame of me, pleasuring me with an overwhelming, sweet electric feeling as he felt the contours of my silhouette. He gave me all of him. Every goddamn time we made love, this man sent me to heaven and back.

He cried. He wouldn't stop. He loved me so much. Too much. Or so he made me think.

I wiped his tears as they rained on me. He was giving me all he had, and I cleaned the tears off his face.  My hands were holding onto him for dear life, touching, feeling that perfect caramel skin of his' for all it was worth, roaming with eagerness, but tenderness around the firmness of his body –  the body of this man whom I could have sworn was carved like a Greek god. He made love to me and I curled my fingers into the locks of his dark hair, fisting, caressing, pulling, dragging, and running my hands through its fine mane as he rained a bitter sweet mix of tears and pleasure upon me.

We made a promise for the thousandth time that night in my chamber; we promised that we would not stop adoring each other. We made a mutual agreement to love each other till death do us apart.

For I knew it from the first day that I met Abdulmajeed Ali Isah, that we were meant to be.

"It is me and you against the world," I whispered into his ears, "And, if I can't have you, my sweet angel, then, no one else will."

So, with a gun to his head, I made him say the words, "I love you."

I made him repeat those words over and over again, as he made love to me. With a knife to his throat, I made him worship me with red roses and call me beautiful. Adorn me with dandelions as he told me that I was everything worthy, from the ripples and folds on my back and waist to the stretch marks like odd shaped lightning bolts on my large thighs. I made him kiss my feet as he told me what I would have needed to hear from the lips of all the men who ever scarred me. And while he swore his devotion to me, his tears were ointment to my dark scorching soul, and his sobs, sweet music to my ears.

We were going to see the sunset afterwards.Just as lovers do.

Like I said, we had so many beautiful memories together. Memories to share. And we had pledged to make more. More and more. Till the day that we were grey and dead.

Therefore, with chains and cuffs dragging down his feet and hands, with blood dripping down as I rolled his now half conscious body across the ground, imprints of the red from his crimson gore staining the romantic rose petals that sprinkled on the porcelain tiled floors, I brought Abdulmajeed Ali Isah along with me on our next love story.

We were going to make memories. The same way we always do, the same way we always will.

After all, we made a promise to death do us part. And with a kiss to his blood stained lips, I had sealed it.