Story cover for The Deep by hotpink456
The Deep
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    LECTURAS 51
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    Votos 26
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    Partes 28
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    Hora 3h 30m
  • WpView
    LECTURAS 51
  • WpVote
    Votos 26
  • WpPart
    Partes 28
  • WpHistory
    Hora 3h 30m
Continúa, Has publicado jun 28, 2025
Contenido adulto
1 parte nueva
Humanity's last hope for paradise lies submerged beneath the Atlantic Ocean: Nereilora, also known as The Deep. Advertised as a land of endless opportunity where you can be anything you desire, the government paints a perfect picture for a vision so grand you'd never want to leave. But that's precisely what they want you to think.

Frederick arrived in The Deep seeking his dream: to be a celebrated pianist. What he found instead was a suffocating reality. He plays for pennies in a rundown bar, his days a monotonous cycle of poverty and despair, barely enough to survive, let alone afford a laser gun to end it all. The TV ads back on land never show the rampant poverty, the lawlessness, or the crushing darkness that truly defines life in Nereilora. And they certainly don't mention the most critical rule: once you're in The Deep, you can't leave. For Frederick, this isn't paradise; it's his personal hell, and he can't fathom why his friend thinks a pen pal program with someone from the surface could possibly make it tolerable.

Meanwhile, on land, Henrietta navigates the grimy streets of New New York. Her life is a constant hum of angry customers in the diner, the frequent shouts of rioters demanding change. She tells herself it's "simple but pretty good," even as she buys canned air for her apartment and her boyfriend, who calls her "Hen" for "squawking," becomes increasingly volatile. He's sweet only when he wants to be, his drunken "rough lovemaking" and attempts to "hit some sense into her" dismissed with a self-assured thought that she can always lock the door. To Henrietta, escape is a foreign concept; her life is just fine. So why did her well-meaning friend sign her up for The Deep's mysterious pen pal program, as if she needed a way out?

Two different worlds, two lives teetering on the edge. What secrets will surface when their realities collide, and can a connection across the depths offer a lifeline... or only pull them further into The Deep?
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365 Veils of Leon S. Kennedy

80 partes Continúa

She thought she buried the past. But the past never buries you. A sudden flash of memory... her father's dying eyes, and a legacy built on secrets and broken promises. Leon S. Kennedy was never meant to love her. He haunted her dreams, mocked her in silence, stalked her steps like a shadow with no name. "You don't get to play the hero when your hands are drenched in my blood." Until She met Him by chance, a stranger, a weapon, a key to the lies that bound her. Their eyes crossed, briefly, like two stars brushing in an endless sky... beautiful, distant, and destined to never meet. "I don't expect you to care. But I'll keep hoping you'll let me stay." In Paris, under dim lights, their eyes met again... his gaze colder, her heart colder still. Each lie Leon tried to bury only clawed deeper. Her hatred sharpened, he watched her, Stalked her without knowing why, as if her presence was a riddle only he could never solve. "I never wanted to be your savior... I just wanted to be less of your curse, more of your love." Leon might have wept once... only once, for a woman he couldn't save, for a life he accidentally destroyed. Their marriage exposed like an open wound where the world could see. She tried to look away, but his eyes always found hers... like fate, relentless, pulling them closer with every stolen second. Aaira became heartless. Cold. Empty. Untouchable. Yet in the dark, Leon's love grew stronger, a wildfire impossible to extinguish. "I loved you the way a man loves the edge of a blade... knowing it will cut him in the end. Yet each night, 🎵: "I don't choose this way, It just feels right. No need to understand, I'm already home." Blood is thicker, they say... but sometimes, it's the blade that cuts deepest. In the end, the ones closest to us are the ones who break us most. And maybe... just maybe, something real waits to be born. Or maybe they are both already dead.