Too Close for Comfort
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- Parts 4
Ongoing21m
Last published Sun, May 17, 2015
Living with claustrophobia is hard. Living with any phobia is hard, really.
How would I tell you my story? "Oh, hi, I'm Brooke Daniels, and I hate bathroom stalls"? No. Obviously not. No way. But I don't know how to any other way. See, aside from having this "disease", I'm the most awkward human being you will ever meet. Pretty boys make me nervous. And pretty boys don't like me.
But again, my story isn't like any other story. Girl with claustrophobia, blah, blah, meets boy, blah blah, gets cured, been there heard that. You know the gist of it. But NONE of that happens, well, except for the phobia part.
But this is a story of growing up. It's about living with a phobia. It's about nice people, and mean people. It's about love and hate, sadness and anger.
Totally relatable, right?
You actually have no idea.
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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
Safe in your hands
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Anomalies ✔
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A Boy From Manning Heights ✔️
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Stuck On A High
He knew he was blushing; he could feel it. Boy, did he hate that. "I-I never sleep," his eyes darted away for a moment, "maybe I was thinking of all the ways I could bash your face in." Devyn glared at those jade eyes, his lip curling slightly. He pressed their bodies closer, his leg slipping between Lexin's. "If you think-" Devyn's words died from his lips as Lexin nearly whimpered, from both embarrassment and pleasure. Devyn's firm thigh was now pressed against his rock-hard dick, and he had no excuse as to why it was hard. The two stared at each other in a thick silence, Lexin's eyes wide and Devyn's unreadable. "Y-you should-" "Is this why you're up," Devyn's tone began to drop, "couldn't find a good fuck at the party?" Lexin glared and tried his best not to grind his hips forward and release some of the pain. "If I wanted to, I would have," he scowled. "Since when do you come home unsatisfied? We both know you can't keep it in your pants," Devyn's eyes stayed locked on the bruises. "Prick," Lexin hissed. Unable to stop himself, his hips pressed forward this time, his eyebrows pinching together. To his surprise Devyn pushed back. He wasn't gentle about it either as he applied the weight of his muscular thigh onto Lexin's hard on. Devyn's dark eyes flicked to his before he leaned down, brushing his lips on the shell of Lexin's ear. "You want to tell me why you're so hard, princess?" Lexin turned beat red, "Stop calling me that." "That's not an answer," Devyn slid his head down and brushed his lips over the sore hickey. ~'~ WARNING: this book has a choking and biting kink. READ AT YOUR OWN RISKComplete
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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.
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