nightmare dressed like a daydream (End or death)
- Reads 13
- Mga Boto 0
- Mga Parte 2
N- Night
I- Cold as Ice
C- Crazy?
O- Overkill
L- Bloodlust
E- End
Nicole? Yes! That's my name.
My name explains lots of things 'bout me.
I'm a 16 year old assassin.
Yeah! You heard me.
I'm an assassin.
Plus I'm a pro!
~ sweet nightmare bitches ~
If y'all don't like vulgarity please don't read. Oh btw sorry if my writing sucks. I'm actually not even allowed to write here since I'm still quite young but oh well I break rules and that's why I'm me. Oh btw the way
~ till next time ~
All Rights Reserved
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Magugustuhan mo rin ang
Killing Is Thrilling
'The night was alive with silence. I moved through it like a shadow, black leather gloves tight on my hands, boots soft against the grass. My gas mask hid my face, leaving only darkness where my eyes should be. The world narrowed to a single point: the house ahead. Tonight, it would belong to me. The farmhouse rose stark and white beneath the moonlight, silent except for the occasional grunt of a pig or the low hum of a cow. They were unaware. They were insignificant. I crouched behind the hedge, eyes scanning, senses alert. Every detail mattered: the flicker of light across the curtains, the faint rustle of movement inside, the way a shadow shifted across the floor. She was there. Oblivious. Popcorn in hand, murmuring to herself as the television flickered. Every motion was a note in tonight's symphony, and I was the conductor. I studied her, cataloging. Timing. Patterns. Fear. She didn't notice me yet, and that was perfect. Patience was everything. One sound, one misstep, and it could all unravel. I rang the doorbell once. Silence. Again. Still nothing. She flinched slightly, just enough to make my pulse quicken. Her small reaction was delicious. A sudden movement in the yard caught my eye-a neighbor's dog barking at some unseen intruder. Its voice was loud, startling, but contained. I froze. My breath slowed. Patience. Observation. The dog's curiosity would pass. I remained still, hidden in shadow, letting the moment stretch. The animal lost interest and padded away. Perfect. I moved to the back of the house, hammer in hand.' ...Kumpleto
Trapped in my Worst Novel
Protagonists, the most important characters in stories. They're the ones that are supposed to save the world and be a symbol of hope for humanity, the ones that can defeat anything in their way if they want to, the ones whom the reader wants to win and succeed... ...Well atleast thats how a good heroic protagonist should be. I wrote three novels after dropping out of college at 20 years old. My first novel was a disaster, boring characters, recycled plot, and a protagonist so rude even I wanted to punch them. The next two? Absolutely amazing and really well-liked. I was ready to quit writing for good when i suddenly got hit by a car and woke up in someone else's body, someone i don't recognize at all, who goes to the exact same school from my first novel. Yeah. That happened, i'm screwed. Great. Now I'm stuck in a world full of arrogant, clueless students. Why couldn't i have entered one of my better stories?! And if that's not enough, the soul of this body won't stop yelling at me to "give their body back", as if i could do that, while a tiny version of them sits on my left shoulder and a tiny version of my 19 year old self from my past life rides the right shoulder. What even is happening anymore? Sigh...
The School Escape
It was a normal day, until we heard those static noises. The next thing you know everyone is running out the classrooms. I can hear students screaming and running. When I step out I see bodies all over the floor. My old friends covered with blood, like a red blanket covering them. Follow as a group of students try to escape this hell. Their past catches up to them. They have to face reality and stop trying to hide the past. What they didn't expect was for the past to catch up so quickly. Lying and acting fake, is just the beginning of the past, but also torture, and rape. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ At the beginning of the story it's really bad writing. But as you continue to read the story gets better, I promise. Do give my story a chance I promise you won't regret. (I think ;))Kumpleto![Til Death Tears Me Apart Once Again [Discontinued]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/177422415-256-k807950.jpg)
Til Death Tears Me Apart Once Again [Discontinued]
"If I'm going to die anyway, there's no point in trying to live." A typical reincarnated into a villainess story, except the protagonist isn't your typical 'I want my happy ending protagonist', but a death seeker. XX 《'Til Death Tears Me Apart, I Will Always Love You》is a very successful otome game. As much praise and admiration the game recieves, it is also, however, notorious for being absurdly difficult. One wrong step and the player would be drowning in an ocean of death flags, for both the Heroine and the Capture Targets. Anything short of perfection wouldn't even get the player a glimpse of a happy ending for the Capture Target the player chose. Enter me; Just a simple, normal girl reincarnated into a game as dangerous as that, as the villainess no less. Destined to die no matter what, I think there's no point in me trying to fight fate. If I'm going to die regardless, might as well die sooner rather than later. But that desire for death causes more than just a few changes to the definite plot; From little ones that have no effect at all, to life changing ones that may destroy the world of Arraxus. So the God of the world makes a deal with me: They'll give me a peaceful and happy afterlife, as long as I get a happy ending for myself. "Let the game begin!" -- Discontinued.Kumpleto
Her Chaos
I never thought my life could make a 180 degree turn . I just wanted to party and enjoy like the rest of the teenagers in the world. Never thought one day I would wake up and see the world differently. Like , bad different. All I know is that my mind doesnt want it. But unfortunately, fate has something else for me. Its bad, terrible and just downright wrong. And it sucks that im intrigued by it so bad and if i dont stop it, itll wreak chaos. Some would have the dillema of choosing what's right and wrong. And thats just easy. But me? Well , I just happen to attract all bad luck in the world that im stuck on choosing between abomination or disaster. You wouldnt wanna be responsible for wiping the whole world's population for unleashing chaos right? Guess I just gonna have to choose whose less evil then. ___________Kumpleto
Addict In Black ✔
USER SERIES 1 Micah Rex: He's handsome, dangerous, reckless. An addict. When he walks into a room, people notice. People are scared of him, people don't look him in the eye. AJ Ferro: She's cute, nice respectful. A helper. When she walks in a room, people usually get flowers. People love her, people want to be her friend. Despite her cheery nature and soft words AJ has never had it easy when it came to addiction -or depression. Without his addiction, sadness and anger Micah doesn't know who he is -and he hates not knowing things. And, of all places, they meet at a rehab center. He looked at her and saw a peppy girl with no future. She looked at him and saw a troubled boy with a bad past. Micah wants to die, AJ wants him to live. It's only a matter of time before one of them breaks through or breaks the other. - I was 12 the first time I took a hit off a joint at a party, smoked a blunt by myself and bought a bong. I was 13 when I started drinking alcohol for fun. 14 the first time I took ecstasy at a college party I snuck into, the same age I lost my virginity. This was the first time I went to a mental institution because it's also the year I first tried to kill myself. 15 the first time I smoked meth, took a bump of cocaine, shot myself up with heroine. This was the first time I got sent to rehab, it didn't work and I came out worse. I was 16 when I tried to commit three times in the same year, the last time I got my heart to stop for 30 seconds. That year was also the first time I snorted Hydrocodone, getting me started in opiates, I experimented with Xanax and liked it. And I was a month from 17 when I got sober. - "Fuck you." I snap. "You already have." Micah bites out. "And I'm pretty fucking sure you liked it too, if your orgasms were anything to go by." - "I want-" Micah stopped, running his fingers through his hair. "Never mind what I want. What do you want?" His voice is quieter now, more gentle. "You."Kumpleto
The Master Assassin
"Agent O. Lyons?" I stammered. My dad disregarded me. "She is 16, and I believe this is the best way to keep her safe from him," he continued talking to the person on the phone. "Safe from who?" I asked. He ignored me again. "Hmmm a new murder. Same victim?" he is now entirely off the subject of me. "I don't know if that would work... she might not want to risk her life here .yet," wait is he talking about me? "Yes, sir, I'll talk to her about it. No I do not think she'll agree. Well unless he shows up here, my department has no location on it, no," he said. Who is him? Who is her? Who is my dad? ••• 16-year-old Olivia Lyon's world is going to be turned upside down. Her dad doesn't actually work for a newspaper company, and she is the next target of an assassin- but not just any assassin- The Master Assassin. She's convinced it's the end of her life... But is it?Kumpleto
𝙰 𝚅𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜'𝚜 𝙶𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚂𝚞𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕...
Have you ever had one of those terrible yet annoyingly pivotal moments? You know, that monumental fragment of time that flips everything you have ever known. That plot twist second that completely takes you by surprise. The one just before the storm hits and everything goes to hell. Yes? Because you see, that moment happens to be my whole damn life. It wasn't always like this though. I used to have a pretty mundane existence, happy to just get good grades and be around my friends. God I wish I could get that simplicity back, I'd never complain it was boring again. But I know I'm not going to ever get back my old life because well... I died. (Kinda) But I woke up. And I was thrilled, beyond grateful I wasn't dead. But then I realized that there was one minor detail that had changed about my reality. I was given the chance to live but it turns out I woke up as the villainess in an otome game my friend used to be obsessed with - Kingdom of freaking Hearts (I added the freaking in there for effect, it's just Kingdom of Hearts) Where, for the record, the villainess only has two possible endings 1) execution and 2) getting exiled. So Fate was like, "Don't worry, I'll save you. Here's a chance to live" and then was like "psyche, screw you. You're still going to die but I'll let you suffer a little first." So now, if only to annoy Fate by proving it wrong, I am determined to survive. I can and I will if I play by these simple rules: 1) Befriend Heroin 2) Avoid Aryn Edwards at All Costs as well as other capture targets And 3) Be the top student at the academy and become an invaluable asset to my Kingdom so I become indispensable, thus unkillable. I'm determined, stubborn, persistent and I will live passed 16. Fate made a big mistake setting me up to die. Since it threw this plot twist at me, I figure I'll return the favor. I'll be the biggest plot twist Fate never saw coming...
'The night was alive with silence. I moved through it like a shadow, black leather gloves tight on my hands, boots soft against the grass. My gas mask hid my face, leaving only darkness where my eyes should be. The world narrowed to a single point: the house ahead. Tonight, it would belong to me. The farmhouse rose stark and white beneath the moonlight, silent except for the occasional grunt of a pig or the low hum of a cow. They were unaware. They were insignificant. I crouched behind the hedge, eyes scanning, senses alert. Every detail mattered: the flicker of light across the curtains, the faint rustle of movement inside, the way a shadow shifted across the floor. She was there. Oblivious. Popcorn in hand, murmuring to herself as the television flickered. Every motion was a note in tonight's symphony, and I was the conductor. I studied her, cataloging. Timing. Patterns. Fear. She didn't notice me yet, and that was perfect. Patience was everything. One sound, one misstep, and it could all unravel. I rang the doorbell once. Silence. Again. Still nothing. She flinched slightly, just enough to make my pulse quicken. Her small reaction was delicious. A sudden movement in the yard caught my eye-a neighbor's dog barking at some unseen intruder. Its voice was loud, startling, but contained. I froze. My breath slowed. Patience. Observation. The dog's curiosity would pass. I remained still, hidden in shadow, letting the moment stretch. The animal lost interest and padded away. Perfect. I moved to the back of the house, hammer in hand.' ...
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