Abigail - AThousandMidnightTheories - Wattpad

Story cover for Abigail by The_LP_Soldier

Abigail

Reads 59
Votes 0
Parts 17
Time 1h 24m

Reads 59
Votes 0
Parts 17
Time 1h 24m

Mature

dark death life loss love sensitive souls suicide

She is everyone, and no one. She doesn't even have a name, because every day she is in a new life. She doesn't know who she is...or was. All she knows is the pain of these other girls, these living girls, the suffering girls.

She wants to know who she really is...but what will it take to find out?

WARNING: This novella contains rape, bullying, suicide, abuse, self-harm, and other sensitive elements.All Rights Reserved

dark death life loss love sensitive souls suicide

Table of contents

17 parts

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Salvation | 18+ by pradaheart

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐋𝐢𝐧 didn't live. She existed. With many names and identities, one sticks out above the others; The Right Hand to the Devil. The Underworld fears her. Her boss knows better than to try and tame her. Death crafted her. Hell shaped her. Murder gave her something to quench that thirst for someone's life slipping through her hands. 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 is a best selling author with a bank account that runs deep and looks that rival a Greek God, but no one knows him. He doesn't need anyone, doesn't want them. And after spending his life pretending to be the perfect gold boy, the machine of a writer, he's ready to waste away in his apartment. But with a single encounter with a woman and a gun, life doesn't flash before his eyes. It starts. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬. He's seen things no one should and she walked out of Hell with more scars than she can count. One of them will 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤. The other will 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞.

Static by hattielynn

{COMPLETED} "now that you've had your fun electrocuting me, would you care to hop in the backseat?" ---------------------------------------------------------- Freak DNA. That's what I like to call it. The fault to my genetic code. More often than not, it's a curse. The static running through my blood gave me a name. A cruel, daunting label of a measly bug. A roach. That's what I am to them, to the government. Roach; the nameless monster with electricity for a sense and lightening as a second nature. It ruined my life, the sparking currents playing tag in my mind, running around and bumping into everything, shaking me loose. The government, actually. They ruined my life. My curse just gave them a reason. You see, the normal population with ordinary DNA, they don't know about the people like me. The roaches of the world. We don't get that kind of recognition at the camps. There, we are only one thing in the military's eyes. We are weapons and we will act like it. Everyone else out there, bathing in the goodness they don't know they've got, they don't know about the roaches their stepping on. As long as their getting closer to the sky, they don't care what they stand on to reach it. They don't know about the sparkling dreamer that's killed 7 people before her 17th birthday. They don't about the ghost of a girl peaking around corners for her entire life because even home wasn't safe. They don't know about the fighter of steel and iron sucking on his bloody lip courtesy of the wars he battles in as nothing but a shadow. They don't know about the masked villain who would do anything to see the army they lead claim the throne They don't know about us. But they will, because we will rise. And when we arrive, we will arrive violently. ___________________________________________ Started: 10.06.15 Finished: 3.17.16

Proposal of Submission - Psychic the Saga by TheShdwStr9000

Hello, I want to first thank you for taking the time to read my proposal, as I know that there are many others you must work through who have done the same as I; please, trust me when I say that your attention is greatly appreciated. I am messaging you today because I wish to submit a selection of excerpts taken from the series of science fiction/science fantasy stories I have written; called Psychic the Saga. I'm a former United States Marine, and a currently enrolled Aerospace Engineering undergrad at the University of Central Florida in Orlando. Over the course of the last eight years, during which the earlier stated experiences have occurred in my adult life, I have continually written the story I am now presenting for your consideration. Outside of writing as a hobby, and what was needed when submitting assignments, my only writing credential is a published engineering research paper in the European Physical Letters: 'Tailorable Twisting of Biomimetic Scale-Covered Substrate'; of which, my main contributions were that of the experimentation, and the editing/proofreading of the paper. In regards to my submission, the story of Psychic follows our trio and the rest of their friends as they fight for peace and stability within the newly unveiled realm of psychics, once hidden amongst the world for untold millennia. The statistics of Book One are as follows: word count = ~205279, page count = ~396, target audience = young/new adult (16~34 yr. of age). The reasoning behind this age range is two-fold: the concepts, morals and lessons, themes, and situations/ problems faced by the main characters are both relatable and beneficial for this age group; also yes, there is foul language, and yes there are very visceral depictions of violence. Also also (lol), I wish to give a disclaimer in terms of any romance, love, or anything else similar; I intentionally never take the story beyond anything more intimate than a kiss. So there. Sincerely, and with the utmost gratitude,

Abandoned. by LolliEmbers

I never realised that everything i was feeling would somehow come to life. This is a story based on real life events and some fiction. Its up to you to decide what is real and what isnt. This story follows a girl who is constantly reminded about her bad choices and how she cant escape whats in her mind. Every time she feels safe, its taken away. So she decides to make a choice one that will either harm everyone she meets or will save her life. She feels like she is destined to walk alone then he notices something dark, a presence she never noticed. Until now.

Requiem by WillowSage

I woke up in a coffin. Buried alive. I remember everything. The suffocating darkness. The taste of dirt. The sound of my own, muffled screams. But the man who dug me up wasn't a savior. He was the monster who put me there. He calls himself Hawk. He's an arrogant, cold-blooded sociopath in a bespoke suit, and he just claimed me as his new... acquisition. His mansion is a pristine, glass-and-steel prison, and I am his new project. He calls it "training." I call it torture. He's a meticulous artist, and I am his new masterpiece. Every touch is a test. Every command is a lesson in degradation. Every punishment is designed to strip away the girl who was buried and forge a new, obedient doll in her place. He thinks he's in control. He thinks he's breaking me. He has no idea he's just sharpening his new favorite weapon. He wanted a pet. He's forging a viper. And this viper is learning to enjoy the taste of her master's blood. ________________________________________ A Note From the Author Welcome to The Requiem. This isn't a typical love story. This is a dark, depraved, secret-society romance. Before you enter, please be aware that this story is for readers who crave heroes who are unapologetic, irredeemable, touch-her-and-die monsters. This book is for you if you like: • A meticulous, "artist" hero who is a possessive, sociopathic stalker. • A heroine who isn't just a survivor. She's a monster . • Intense psychological "training," power-exchange, and degradation. • High-stakes, high-anxiety, and claustrophobic "buried alive" scenarios. • Angry, violent, and dubious sexual encounters. • Spanking, begging, leashes, and so much delicious humiliation. He didn't just break her. He forged her. Read at your own risk.

The experiment. by shrosz

They used my vulnerability against me. They used that weapon, to make me accept their stupid idea. And I of course, accepted it, I didn't even know what they were going to do. They tugged and poked and even shoved their disgusting finger in your wound, just to see you cry. To see you change. No pitty in their eyes. They just continue. They drag you around with metal chains, hit you and turn you into a experiment. But I had enough of the tugging, the clawing, the moaning, the crying and pleading for them to stop, but simply feeding them with our pain. They turned me into something, that neither do they know what I am. Their afraid of me, of my reflexes, my strength. I killed a lot of them. They say I have a cold heart, that I don't feel nothing. That's why they call me: Death -----------------------------------------************************************--------------------------------------------- Death. A teen girl, pitch black hair, black eyes, white skin. Her height is 5'8. People are scared of her, not just because of her strength but because of they way she kills. She lived in this hell hole, where they take her to rooms. Examine. Fight. She knows she won't be able to entertain them for long. She decides to run. Soul. Brown hair as mud, blue eyes as the sky. Hight 6'2. Tanned and toned body. Death's best friend in the hell hole they're in, he's as cold as she is. But shows a bit of sympathy. Well... More than her at least. He's been there for her, ever since she entered this place of crap. They're the two most feared. As some people say, they're a perfect couple. Killing. Fighting. Cold hearted creatures. Also known as D and S. Why? That's what your going to find out, joining this adventure with D and S.

The Death Of Me by HannahxGracex

A girl has her problems, no matter what happens. There will always be a biological problem with a girl, even if she denies the problem’s existence. She will have your days whenever she is down. Her problems... killing her soul little by little. But she doesn’t always want the death to be apart of her. As she fights her depression, the numbers of scars rising and the blood being lost, Ever-Grace finds herself losing herself. With the departure of her friends companionship and her boyfriend’s love, will she ever be the same ever again? Will she ever be in love with herself like she used to be? With sanity ever be apart of her everyday life like it used to be? Will it come so easily like it once was...? Will anything ever be the same like it used to be or will it ever not? There are so many questions to be answered but nothing that the tendency of being answered. As time passes by with all the stupid emotion, she loses herself. She loses the love for herself that might never return. Or will it? Nothing is guaranteed. Not even the death of me.

The Outcast by ihareemnisar

"Will you just shut up" !!!!! I shouted loudly turning towards her ,she was literally getting on my nerves now "Don't you dare shout at me...You brought me into this mess", She shouted equally loudly at me The pitch of her voice was shattering my eardrums and I was on the verge of literally killing her now.She was so tiny yet hell annoying The bulb to the patience area in my mind suddenly got switched off and I abruptly pushed her into the alley wall bringing our faces real close to both our comfort levels "Listen to me you little brat and listen good...My fuckin patience is hanging on a thin thread so if you want your annoying little self to stay alive and might I add in one piece I suggest you shut your filthy shithole" I whispered in her ear lowly making her shiver knowing already that no doubt the shiver came purely from the fear she felt from me and not anything sexual..Good....She should fear me I wasn't the one to be trusted I wasn't the one to be loved I am not a person you should take lightly I am the one you don't want to mess with I am the one you don't want to piss off if you don't want your existence to be utterly painful I am Dominick Slade And I am The Outcast......

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Slide 1 of 8

Salvation | 18+ cover

Proposal of Submission - Psychic the Saga cover

Abandoned. cover

The experiment. cover

The Death Of Me cover

The Outcast cover

Salvation | 18+

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐋𝐢𝐧 didn't live. She existed. With many names and identities, one sticks out above the others; The Right Hand to the Devil. The Underworld fears her. Her boss knows better than to try and tame her. Death crafted her. Hell shaped her. Murder gave her something to quench that thirst for someone's life slipping through her hands. 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 is a best selling author with a bank account that runs deep and looks that rival a Greek God, but no one knows him. He doesn't need anyone, doesn't want them. And after spending his life pretending to be the perfect gold boy, the machine of a writer, he's ready to waste away in his apartment. But with a single encounter with a woman and a gun, life doesn't flash before his eyes. It starts. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬. He's seen things no one should and she walked out of Hell with more scars than she can count. One of them will 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤. The other will 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞.