A Killer's Game
- Reads 20
- Votes 0
- Parts 3
Sophia went to a party Saturday night with a couple of friends. The night's fuzzy but the morning is in clear view with a raging hangover.
Her friend is now sending her pictures of that night, in the morning, the dinging is worsening the headache.
Dressed in a robe for a bath, Sophia opens her gallery to send a photo but stops- there's a new photo, her hair is tangled, and she's asleep.. On her bed. Sophia is on her own phone, her arms underneath her head, asleep.
Someone took the photo.
Who took the fucking photo?
She brushed it off as a joke to her friends but the barrage of photos don't stop- preventing Sophia from a good night's sleep.
Then they stop. They stop, but she's starting to get calls. The same voice.
They act as if nothing is wrong, as a listening voice.
Before he's there.
He's there, and now he's in her house-
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
You may also like
Ok, Who Got Bitten?
Right now, I'm squatting in a pile of human waste, desperately trying to get a signal on my phone. My friends are watching me reluctantly, their faces stained with blood and what I only hope is dirt. The light from my phone is illuminating their faces, casting light on the looks of horror that I have come to know all too well. My best friend is cradling her left arm, bandaged with a torn piece of cloth in hopes of stopping the blood flow. My sister can barely walk, and I think her hand is broken. She looks on the verge of tears. As we calm down, catching our breaths, I give up looking at my phone. I slowly turn to them, my own face crusted with blood. I look at each of them, one by one. "Ok, who got bitten?"Complete
Caged By Him
"WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT INSIDE YOUR HEAD?" He trapped my trembling body between his arms and slammed his fist into the wall. I flinch at the sound as I feel tears forming in my eyes. "I'M SICK AND TIRED OF YOUR CRYING. JUST ACCEPT THE FACT THAT YOU'RE NEVER LEAVING. THIS IS YOUR LIFE NOW, WITH ME" He spits, anger consuming his voice as I push myself further against the wall. Shutting my eyes closed and turning my face to the side as I do. Moments later, I feel his rough hand on my waist and his finger grazing my cheek. "Look at me, love." His hand grips onto my jaw, his thumb playing across my lower lip. He turns my face to meet his as I lower my gaze to the floor. He lowers himself to my level and I feel his breath fanning my cheek causing my breathing to become unsteady. "I love you so much, darling. But you need to learn. You need to learn that you won't be going anywhere. You're mine." With that being said, his other hand slides down to my waist "Your entire body, your mind, your soul. All mine." All I could do was tremble at his touch. How can someone so beautiful be so heartless? ~~~~~~~~~~ All a 19 year old Aurora Shaw wanted to do was work to make a living and volunteer at the orphanage. Unfortunately for her, ruthless and cunning 26 year old Mafia leader and billionaire Tristan Black had other plans for her. He's been waiting for the perfect moment to kidnap her and finally make her his queen after 2 years of watching and stalking her every move. He'd kill anyone who gets in the way of getting what he wants. What will happen when he ruins everything she wanted and forces her to marry him? Will she escape and resist him? Or will she submit and accept her fate?Complete
Bloody Walls
Chapter one be like : "I Sam Wilson promise not to do anything disrespectful or bad towards Thomas for the rest of my life as a child." So you just saw that idiot? Back before my hair was red before i looked like this. That promise I broke too. Ok listen you wouldn't blame me! I made that promise as a 5 year old once my mom and dad went missing and my older brother had to raise me. Im 14 now and my brother 21. If anything I'm everyones second choice. Also also! I AM A GIRL!!! Not a boy! I just have my hair cut short because its better that way. I wrote all this down in my dairy and closed it. "Sam?" My brother walked in. "What?" I replied back. "You know how your therapist suggested going to a special teen camp?" "Yeah." "Well this summer your going to one!" "What?! Camp...? Thomas I'm not 6." "Well you are now!" "Are you going with me at least?" "Yeah! I'm working there! I can't just leave you there." "Oh my goddddd-" I rolled my eyes and put my head back on my pillow. Special camp!? Im not sped! I'm not going! "I already got your stuff packed! We start heading there next week!" Why does he sound exited. I looked him in the eyes and than rolled mine. "Come on Samuel!" "Shut up! I dont care!" I put my headphones back in and ignored his dumb speech of sibling bonding. Seriously? This is why he's still single. Even I have gotten asked out. Hear me out he hasn't had a girlfriend at all! How do you not get a girlfriend in this amount of time!? Instead of signing me up for some stupid shit you could be on tinder finding a girl! But nooooooo sign my little sister up for camp!!! Ugh whatever.Complete
ππ‘ππ’π« ππ’πππ₯π ππ§π ππ₯ | ππ+
β§ ππππππππ ππππππππ (πππππ) β§ When I was six I was kidnapped and taken away from my family for seven months. Thirteen years later and I have little to no memory of who had taken me. Ever since then my father has been severely overprotective and never lets me out of his sight. Now that I'm somewhat on my own everything starts to change. When I finish high school and start attending New York University my life takes a turn, for better and for worse. They're back. β πππππππππ π πππππππ β Years ago we found our little angel. She just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was the light in our lives, until one day we lost her again. Thirteen years later and we still mourn the loss of our sweetheart, but we found her once, we will do it again. I am the head of the Russian mafia, or a professor at NYU depending who you ask. One day I raise my head to look around at the sea of students and my eyes lock on a familiar pair of ocean blue irises. β ππππππ πππππππ β I'm a heartless killer and offer no apologies for it. As the head of the Russian mafia along with being the CEO to a multibillion dollar company, my life is nothing but darkness. During the day I'm an office man, at night my knife slashes through the necks of anyone I can get my hands on. Killing is my outlet, ever since I lost her. It helps me keep my anger in check. I've never stopped looking for her. We've come close multiple times, but each time came out unsuccessful. As I put a bullet in the head of my ex-guard, Alex comes rushing into the room, and the look on his face says it all. He found her. Start: July 4th End: ///
Heart
Her name was Gabriella Quintanilla. She was a senior in high school during this time. She had the looks, all the boys, the popularity, the clothes, and even the grades. And in no way was she ignorant of any of these things--quite the opposite. She knew that she was above average in most categories of life, and had no problem reminding people repeatedly of that fact. I'm not going to lie---I didn't like her. Not at all. To be completely honest, I threatened to kill her with my bare hands. And the scary thing is, I meant it. I wanted her to die. I imagined dark fantasies of the light fading from her eyes right before my own, her pleading for me to spare her life. And in my fantasies, I wouldn't listen and I didn't care. She had tortured me for five years and I was utterly and simply sick of it all. Sick of her. My animosity towards Gabriella was no secret among my peers. Not many people liked her, so it's not like I stood alone on the concept. However I was the only one who voiced a threat. THE threat. The threat that got me on a suspect list in some cop's notepad. They want to know if I killed her. If they knew the whole story, would they blame me if I did? Β©Copyright Timara M. Lewis 2013Complete
The experiment.
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.Complete
Her Life
""I guess so!" I started laughing too. I looked around and realized it's been forever since I've been here... We started eating and talking about school work when all of a sudden.. My phone goes off. I look at who the text is from. It's from mom. -Tara! Come home now!- -Why?!?!? What's up???- -It's Sammy!- -Alright! On my way!-" Tara's life is always how she wants it to be... that is, until a threat came to be. She already lost her father.. She doesn't know how much more she can take until she finally loses everything... Her Mom.. Her girlfriend.. even her best friend Sammy... Will it stop at just them.. or is the threat after her too?Complete
Behind Closed Doors
I never thought my life would be like this; trapped in a dark room and scared for my life. A blindfold was wrapped around my head, covering my eyes, making me completely blind and on high alert. My breathing was ragged and I could smell the mold that was most likely covering most of the room. My hands were tied behind my back, my feet tied together and I was sitting on the floor, propped up against a wall. I heard a slight shuffling across the room that was coming closer to me. I tried my hardest to keep my breathing under control to seem confident and fearless, but in reality, I was shitting my pants and squealing like a scared little girl on the inside. To say I was terrified was a drastic understatement. I was petrified, shaking with fear, but they were not going to know that. "Who are you?!" I demanded. If I was going to die, it would be with the name of my kidnapper. A voice boomed closely to me, "Well, if I told you that, this wouldn't be any fun." **************** Skylar James, a 24 year old girl, is kidnapped by a very well known gang who has a vendetta against her family. In an attempt to find light in her situation, she makes friends with one of the members. Logan Grant was forced into the gang at the young age of 16. He was abused until he became emotionless and ruthless, so that one day, he could rule the gang. Everything was going smoothly until Skylar is brought in. With a blindfold wrapped around her head, he instantly feels bad for her, though he cannot show it. Afraid of getting caught, he shows no emotion while others are around. Though, behind closed doors is a whole other story.Complete
Right now, I'm squatting in a pile of human waste, desperately trying to get a signal on my phone. My friends are watching me reluctantly, their faces stained with blood and what I only hope is dirt. The light from my phone is illuminating their faces, casting light on the looks of horror that I have come to know all too well. My best friend is cradling her left arm, bandaged with a torn piece of cloth in hopes of stopping the blood flow. My sister can barely walk, and I think her hand is broken. She looks on the verge of tears. As we calm down, catching our breaths, I give up looking at my phone. I slowly turn to them, my own face crusted with blood. I look at each of them, one by one. "Ok, who got bitten?"
More detailsContent Guidelines