Story cover for Law's Left Hand by IamJustanYiKan4
Law's Left Hand
  • WpView
    Reads 15
  • WpVote
    Votes 4
  • WpPart
    Parts 4
  • WpHistory
    Time 26m
  • WpView
    Reads 15
  • WpVote
    Votes 4
  • WpPart
    Parts 4
  • WpHistory
    Time 26m
Ongoing, First published Dec 10, 2024
Mature
In the labyrinthine streets of London, where reality bleeds at its seams and ancient malevolence breathes between cobblestones, Adam stands as humanity's fragile sentinel. A detective gifted with supernatural insight, he navigates a world teetering on the brink of cosmic annihilation. As an impending doom threatens the world, Adam must confront enemies and unravel a conspiracy that defies human comprehension. With enigmatic allies shrouded in mysteries, he becomes the last hope against an apocalypse written in shadows and blood. Can one man's defiance reshape a reality inches from destruction?

*****

*Warning: This story may content some violence, gore, self-harm, blood*
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Losing Game

6 parts Ongoing Mature

(TWs: gore, abuse, sexual abuse, cursing) Why does he still breathe? Why is he kept alive in this shadowed purgatory where time has no meaning, and screams are swallowed by the walls? His cell is a cage, his life a cruel experiment, and his mind a battlefield. Questions claw at him relentlessly: Who is he? What is he? Why does this torment exist? The walls bleed stories of others-lost souls whose cries still linger, haunting the air. His own voice has grown hoarse from endless screams, his body a canvas of scars, a map of suffering that tells no answers, only pain. Every day is a ritual of degradation, where faceless captors toy with his humanity, stripping him of it piece by agonizing piece. The only constant is the endless cycle of questions. Why him? Why the torture? What is their purpose? He clings to the faintest memories of a time before-fleeting images of warmth, love, a face he cannot quite recall. But even those are slipping away, devoured by the void growing inside him. In this relentless, suffocating darkness, where hope is a distant memory, only one question remains: When will the game end, and what will be left of him when it does?