Pleated blasphemy
- Reads 962
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- Parts 24
Ongoing2h 43m
Last published Sat, Dec 17, 2022
"We were both broken glasses, how could we have touched each other without bleeding?",
Shroud
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We were both unfinished stories, getting dusty on this chessboard of life. For a long time, we were in a stalemate, then our paths crossed and we swapped places. He wrote my fate and I wrote his. It was a battle to behold, gritty and gory and glorious.
It started with that damned sarcophagus, the taboot-e-Zeenat. Everyone wanted a piece of it for themselves. So did I. So did him. Who wouldn't want to go back in time to fix all the wrongs? Who wouldn't want every wish to be fulfilled? We both did; the sarcophagus was going to give us that. And we were ready to go to all lengths for it. We had no rules, no conscience. The problem was only one of us could have it. And I was not one for sharing.
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" Missed me?", He whispered.
I tried moving my hand toward the dagger strapped to my thigh.
"Oh no you don't! ", he crooned
"You are supposed to be dead.", I greeted between my teeth, my face stinging from the bite of cold stones as he pressed me harder into the wall.
" How could I, when your aim is so bad ?", He sounded almost sorry for that.
"My aim is fine ", I bit back, as I moved against him in an attempt to make some room.
"You mean you just happened to miss my heart when you stabbed me in the chest. Careful! words might get out that Shroud is losing her touch.", He said with a chuckle.
I continued my futile attempt to free myself. I could dislodge him, I could hurt him, I could escape but then I would have to go full-blown; To that mindless vengeful creature.
"Stop it, it's having the opposite effect of what you are intending", He groaned.
For a moment I stilled as I realised what he meant, his body was flushed against mine. There was not an inch of space between us.
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#862
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War of Praisers
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Blade ✔️
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The Situation
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Gun has a limited time. His love has an expiration date. Gun's life is like a bomb-every hour-every minute-ever second counts, but Gun's heart started beating-but the beating will either kill him or make him live. ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈« PREVIEW: "I didn't-even tell him na khrab-how much I-lo-love him." I mumble. It was too messy. My hiccups are too much. When he left me, my life ended. I can't find the will to continue living. I attempted suicide a lot of times, but my friends stopped me on time. "I am very-coward-I should have-told him na khrab-my-my feelings way-way back before." I continue. The agony is eating me up alive. "Do you think Ai'Gun regret anything? He fucking didn't Ai'Mark!" P'Plan harshly pulls my face up. Everyone has tears on their eyes, "We-also love Ai'Gun. You-are not-the only person-who lost-something Ai'Mark." Ai'Title broke his voice a lot of times. I only started back at him, "He was-our special friend-Ai'Mark. We love him-so much." Ai'Perth tried his best, but failed as well. P'Plan harshly wipe his tears off his face, "I freaking study hard-just to help him-I wanted him-to be alive-as much as you want-him to be alive Ai'Mark!" Ai'Saint didn't say anything. He only cries silently beside us. "Here!" Ai'Perth gave me a folded paper. I decided to wipe my tears, "What's this?" I asked him. Everyone avoided my gaze, "It's better for you to-read it Ai'Mark. We-also have our letters na khrab." Ai'Title said. They didn't insist on stay in my apartment. Actually they quickly left after giving the folded paper to me. I settle myself on the same spot Ai'Gun sat, before unfolding the paper, it started with, "Dear Mark Siwat..." And I lost it. I lost Ai'Gun. And I know in my heart that it will never beat for anyone the same way it beats for Ai'Gun. ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«Complete
I lift my hand, holding my pistol to his chest, hovering over his heart. He stares at me, emotions spilling out of him. Emotions I can't decipher. He leans closer, the tip of the barrel pressing into his skin, just above his heart. "Do it," he whispers, inches from my face. I hold his gaze, while his hands snake under my shirt, grazing my skin. "I dare you," he lowers his voice, so gently, "Shoot me." My finger curls around the trigger, an inch from pulling it. I glare into his eyes, "You're a fucking monster," I whisper. He nods, "I know." "You kill without remorse," I spit. "I know." "I hate you," My finger screams at me to pull the trigger. "I know." "I'm disgusted by you." "I know," he inhales, letting his forehead rest against mine. His gaze falls to my lips, "If you want me dead, then kill me, pull the trigger." - It's no longer a question. My morals are gone, leaving nothing but a monstrous killing machine. Any hope for some sort of sympathy, some regard for life is nonexistent. I want death. I want to be the bringer of death, and the essence of slaughter. - Rhea Windsor, the newest ruler of Ovantasa after her parents- the former king and queen were assassinated. Her mind is in the pits of despair guided by vengeance, leaving nothing but a body of handcrafted slaughter and within that madness, she comes across a man made for killing. The ruthless killer known as Elijah Anton, who forces her to turn her back on her morals and grip on sanity. What happens when she realizes she wasn't as innocent as she thought and teeters on a heart of purity and blinding hate? When perfect becomes unattainable and her flaws take its place? - [𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆] THIS BOOK CONTAINS EXTREME GRAPHIC CONTENT AND IS NOT MADE FOR A LIGHT READ - *COMPLETE & FULLY EDITED*
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