Story cover for The Attic by LanceRedanican
The Attic
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    Parts 15
  • WpHistory
    Time 1h 52m
  • WpView
    Reads 4,607
  • WpVote
    Votes 136
  • WpPart
    Parts 15
  • WpHistory
    Time 1h 52m
Ongoing, First published Jun 09, 2012
I don't know when I'd be able to admit to myself that buying this house was a bad idea. I'm not sure how long I'd stay sane either, for the only thing I ever called mine was causing me nothing but torment. This place is wrapped with secrets that haunted me the more I tried to uncover them. There's something dark about this house, but the struggles that I had in the past that enabled me to buy a home didn't allow me to give up. Call it pride, but it's really not hard to let go of something you hold dear. I'm desperate. This race against time and the entity that's after me, I am not sure if I could keep up.

 	I believe there's a way to end all this. Every page I flip in this diary is one step closer to finally understanding the mystery that enshrouds this place.
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Soft Things Can Kill You (MFMM)

19 parts Ongoing Mature

My name is Wren. I'm exhausted, under-caffeinated, emotionally unstable... and apparently mated to a god, a jealous alpha, and my teacher with arms thicker than my will to live.** I wish I was kidding. But nope. I got dumped at Hollowthorn Academy - a school for the powerful, the broken, and the chronically unwell - and now I have three dangerously hot soulmates fighting over me like I'm the last snack on Earth. And honestly? I kind of want all three. 🖤 **Ashriel** - The god in my head. No, seriously. He lives in my mind, talks in cryptic riddles, and acts like he owns my body. He's terrifying, obsessive, and somehow the only one who makes me feel safe when I'm falling apart. I think he wants to devour me. In multiple ways. 🖤 **Ryan** - The Beast. Alpha shifter. Growls when I look at other guys. Gets jealous of my cereal. Once threatened a chair for getting too close. He's chaos in a hoodie. But when he touches me, I feel like I could stop running. 🖤 **Theron** - My teacher. Yeah. That's going well. He's quiet, massive, and stares like I'm both a threat and his last meal. I know I should be scared. But I feel seen. Protected. Like he could hold all my broken pieces together... and snack on me while he's at it. Meanwhile, I'm stress-eating Honey Nut Cheerios and trying not to scream every time someone says I'm "chosen." There's something inside me. A mark. A power. A darkness. Everyone says I'm special. But I don't feel special. I feel like a haunted gremlin with abandonment issues and way too many men breathing down my neck. Still... maybe I could be more. Maybe I could fight fate, fall in love, and survive the wreckage of who I used to be. Or maybe I'll cry in the girl's bathroom and eat emergency cookies out of my bra. Either way... I'm not going down without snacks.