Infinitely Invincible. - Riana - Wattpad

Story cover for Infinitely Invincible. by heyitsriana

Infinitely Invincible.

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Parts 7

Reads 182
Votes 0
Parts 7

Her presence was not something I found...interesting at first glance, despite her being nice and charming in every little way. She's like a persistent ghost - or in better words, a bright light. She's always there, flitting and hovering, laughing and forever smiling in that charming little melancholic smile, chatting and listening in rapt attention to every little detail. She was charming I had to admit - witty and pretty for sure so naturally, I succumbed to her charm one day. I reached out to her, when I was at my weakest point, I reached out for that blinding bright light...but when our fingers brushed...she went out like a light. How could she make me feel so infinite and invincible, without even me knowing until the very last moment where our story would end?All Rights Reserved

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beneath her shadow by Litty1976

I didn't know I was disappearing until it was almost too late. At first, it was subtle. A missed call here. A joke at my expense there. A delay in responding, followed by a grand explanation that made me feel silly for even asking. You start to wonder if you're imagining things-if your skin has grown too thin, or if the world has always been this cold and you just never noticed. But no, this is different. This is targeted. This is personal. He came to me like a storm pretending to be sunlight. Charming, magnetic, wounded-how I mistook those wounds as something that needed my healing. I didn't know then that narcissistic abuse doesn't always arrive screaming. Sometimes, it tiptoes in wearing the face of love. He said all the right things at the right time, until I stopped trusting my own sense of wrong. The highs were dizzying: he told me I was everything. Special. Unlike anyone he had ever met. He made me feel chosen. And so, I stayed-even when the lows scraped at my bones, even when the words grew sharp and the silence louder than his rage. I didn't see the cage being built because I was too busy decorating it, thinking I was safe inside. The thing about narcissistic pain is that it often masquerades as longing. You ache not just for the person-but for the version of yourself you were when they first looked at you like you mattered. You miss the illusion. You miss the fantasy. And worst of all, you blame yourself when it shatters.

Requiem by WillowSage

I woke up in a coffin. Buried alive. I remember everything. The suffocating darkness. The taste of dirt. The sound of my own, muffled screams. But the man who dug me up wasn't a savior. He was the monster who put me there. He calls himself Hawk. He's an arrogant, cold-blooded sociopath in a bespoke suit, and he just claimed me as his new... acquisition. His mansion is a pristine, glass-and-steel prison, and I am his new project. He calls it "training." I call it torture. He's a meticulous artist, and I am his new masterpiece. Every touch is a test. Every command is a lesson in degradation. Every punishment is designed to strip away the girl who was buried and forge a new, obedient doll in her place. He thinks he's in control. He thinks he's breaking me. He has no idea he's just sharpening his new favorite weapon. He wanted a pet. He's forging a viper. And this viper is learning to enjoy the taste of her master's blood. ________________________________________ A Note From the Author Welcome to The Requiem. This isn't a typical love story. This is a dark, depraved, secret-society romance. Before you enter, please be aware that this story is for readers who crave heroes who are unapologetic, irredeemable, touch-her-and-die monsters. This book is for you if you like: • A meticulous, "artist" hero who is a possessive, sociopathic stalker. • A heroine who isn't just a survivor. She's a monster . • Intense psychological "training," power-exchange, and degradation. • High-stakes, high-anxiety, and claustrophobic "buried alive" scenarios. • Angry, violent, and dubious sexual encounters. • Spanking, begging, leashes, and so much delicious humiliation. He didn't just break her. He forged her. Read at your own risk.

Alkaria - unedited by AkikoHimari

I hear the clanking of metal loud and rigid from behind me, I feel the wind rush past as I sprint, they are still chasing me. I'll be honest I don't know what to do, quite frankly it's hard to think straight right now. I feel my body shutting down as the adrenaline is losing its punch, I can't run any faster. I'm always running, they are always chasing me. I don't even know why they chase me, I don't know what I did and like them they won't say. Do they even know? Am I just unlucky? Someone they picked at random to be the new subject of there torture? I wont let it happen. That's why I'll stay free, never fully contained. I think about the one I love, Charlie. I don't know where he is, I don't even know if he is safe. "Hey! Weapon down sarge, we don't want to kill her!" A guard's shout smacks me out of my train of thought. By this point I've gained some distance due to them having heavy armour. This stops me in my tracks though, I hear the guards slow down too. I stop, I realise, they want me alive. They aren't going to kill me, they don't want me dead. I have a gun, if I just point it at myself what are they going to do? I turn around and I look at all of the guards who have stopped in their tracks heaving in confusion. It's silent, even the wind is merely a whisper, all that can be heard is the panting of everyone on scene. They want me alive, they want me alive. I turn around, towards my chasers. I notice the guards straighten as I do so, instinctively I hold my gun to my neck, one bullet left, not enough for all of them but enough to kill me. They don't want me dead. I look to see all of them freeze in shock before one of the guards takes a step forward. I can't see their face, I can't see anyone's face but I feel like I need to know who this is. Before I can react they raise their gun and shoot. Pain explodes in my leg and I fall, all that running, for nothing. All I see now is black, I can't hear everything but I still feel conscious.

The Outcast by ihareemnisar

"Will you just shut up" !!!!! I shouted loudly turning towards her ,she was literally getting on my nerves now "Don't you dare shout at me...You brought me into this mess", She shouted equally loudly at me The pitch of her voice was shattering my eardrums and I was on the verge of literally killing her now.She was so tiny yet hell annoying The bulb to the patience area in my mind suddenly got switched off and I abruptly pushed her into the alley wall bringing our faces real close to both our comfort levels "Listen to me you little brat and listen good...My fuckin patience is hanging on a thin thread so if you want your annoying little self to stay alive and might I add in one piece I suggest you shut your filthy shithole" I whispered in her ear lowly making her shiver knowing already that no doubt the shiver came purely from the fear she felt from me and not anything sexual..Good....She should fear me I wasn't the one to be trusted I wasn't the one to be loved I am not a person you should take lightly I am the one you don't want to mess with I am the one you don't want to piss off if you don't want your existence to be utterly painful I am Dominick Slade And I am The Outcast......

Static by hattielynn

{COMPLETED} "now that you've had your fun electrocuting me, would you care to hop in the backseat?" ---------------------------------------------------------- Freak DNA. That's what I like to call it. The fault to my genetic code. More often than not, it's a curse. The static running through my blood gave me a name. A cruel, daunting label of a measly bug. A roach. That's what I am to them, to the government. Roach; the nameless monster with electricity for a sense and lightening as a second nature. It ruined my life, the sparking currents playing tag in my mind, running around and bumping into everything, shaking me loose. The government, actually. They ruined my life. My curse just gave them a reason. You see, the normal population with ordinary DNA, they don't know about the people like me. The roaches of the world. We don't get that kind of recognition at the camps. There, we are only one thing in the military's eyes. We are weapons and we will act like it. Everyone else out there, bathing in the goodness they don't know they've got, they don't know about the roaches their stepping on. As long as their getting closer to the sky, they don't care what they stand on to reach it. They don't know about the sparkling dreamer that's killed 7 people before her 17th birthday. They don't about the ghost of a girl peaking around corners for her entire life because even home wasn't safe. They don't know about the fighter of steel and iron sucking on his bloody lip courtesy of the wars he battles in as nothing but a shadow. They don't know about the masked villain who would do anything to see the army they lead claim the throne They don't know about us. But they will, because we will rise. And when we arrive, we will arrive violently. ___________________________________________ Started: 10.06.15 Finished: 3.17.16

The Eclipse she Became by SanskrutiTalware

Funny, isn't it? Everyone loves to talk about the glow, but nobody ever mentions the damn flames. Like, they'll remember her laugh-oh, that laugh!-but none of them bring up the dead air after, when the room went heavy and weird. She's always the life of the party in their memories, some shining star in a busy room. But nobody talks about her lying awake at 3 AM, eyes fixed on the ceiling, just trying to slow her own heartbeat down. Nobody spots the cracks, just the glossy finish she threw over them. They didn't notice when her smile started lagging, showing up a second too late. Or when she started picking seats by the door instead of next to people. Maybe that's just how it goes-people only really squint at you when you're already gone. Even then, they're not actually looking for you-they're searching for that version of you they liked best. Her friends? Oh, they all said she was different now. Parents? Classic-she grew distant. And him, Aayansh, he just kept weaving her into every damn story, like if he said her name enough times, she'd spring back to life. But Avyukta? She never really left. She was tucked behind every joke, curled up under all the noise, hiding out in the quiet. If you really paid attention-like, really listened-you could still catch her in the hush. In all those little corners, no one else bothered to look.

I am the Queen of the Dark by CalistaSalsabila

This world is huge and beautiful. Yet, it also has so many mystery in it. Still, I hate this world. For me, it's just a full pile of trash. Thousands of fake words exist in this world. Not just this world, but also the other worlds. Including mine. Oh what a piece of trash. So many hypocrites exist in this unpredictable huge galaxy. Like those people who supported you, then stabbed you from the back. Those who smiled this second, then spit out their bad words towards you in the next second. Those who were with you this minute, then dumped you like you're nothing, until your distance with them was like the Earth and the Moon, in the next minute. Those who protected you this hour, then tried to destroy you in the next hour. So...trash. What is family? They're nothing but the annoying people whom always tied me up to follow whatever they said. It's like I'm their pet, instead of their daughter who wished to be free. What is friend? They're no more than those who used you, then dumped you when you're no longer needed in this world. It's all Hell. Hell I say. I don't need family! Nor friends! Or even love, or anything in this awful place. I just wanted to be alone. Alone and free. Yes, your eyes were not wrong! I'm so sick, that I wanted to be all by myself for the rest of my life. Yet, why...is it so painful..to see them go? ***** She is pretty. With her glowing silver hair, she looked like the Princess who was blessed by the Moonlight. Her skin is as white as snow, yet pale like the corpses. Her eyes...are as red as blood. She fell to our world along with the falling meteor. She saw the beautiful earth along with the downfall of her kingdom. And when she started to stand on her own feet, she could never say the word 'Mom' and 'Dad' anymore. Born in the darkness, she came to destroy the peaceful Earth, along with all the living beings in it. But as time passed, as she met new people, it all began to change.

Proposal of Submission - Psychic the Saga by TheShdwStr9000

Hello, I want to first thank you for taking the time to read my proposal, as I know that there are many others you must work through who have done the same as I; please, trust me when I say that your attention is greatly appreciated. I am messaging you today because I wish to submit a selection of excerpts taken from the series of science fiction/science fantasy stories I have written; called Psychic the Saga. I'm a former United States Marine, and a currently enrolled Aerospace Engineering undergrad at the University of Central Florida in Orlando. Over the course of the last eight years, during which the earlier stated experiences have occurred in my adult life, I have continually written the story I am now presenting for your consideration. Outside of writing as a hobby, and what was needed when submitting assignments, my only writing credential is a published engineering research paper in the European Physical Letters: 'Tailorable Twisting of Biomimetic Scale-Covered Substrate'; of which, my main contributions were that of the experimentation, and the editing/proofreading of the paper. In regards to my submission, the story of Psychic follows our trio and the rest of their friends as they fight for peace and stability within the newly unveiled realm of psychics, once hidden amongst the world for untold millennia. The statistics of Book One are as follows: word count = ~205279, page count = ~396, target audience = young/new adult (16~34 yr. of age). The reasoning behind this age range is two-fold: the concepts, morals and lessons, themes, and situations/ problems faced by the main characters are both relatable and beneficial for this age group; also yes, there is foul language, and yes there are very visceral depictions of violence. Also also (lol), I wish to give a disclaimer in terms of any romance, love, or anything else similar; I intentionally never take the story beyond anything more intimate than a kiss. So there. Sincerely, and with the utmost gratitude,

Salvation | 18+ by pradaheart

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐋𝐢𝐧 didn't live. She existed. With many names and identities, one sticks out above the others; The Right Hand to the Devil. The Underworld fears her. Her boss knows better than to try and tame her. Death crafted her. Hell shaped her. Murder gave her something to quench that thirst for someone's life slipping through her hands. 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 is a best selling author with a bank account that runs deep and looks that rival a Greek God, but no one knows him. He doesn't need anyone, doesn't want them. And after spending his life pretending to be the perfect gold boy, the machine of a writer, he's ready to waste away in his apartment. But with a single encounter with a woman and a gun, life doesn't flash before his eyes. It starts. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬. He's seen things no one should and she walked out of Hell with more scars than she can count. One of them will 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤. The other will 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞.

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Slide 1 of 9

beneath her shadow cover

Alkaria - unedited cover

The Outcast cover

The Eclipse she Became cover

I am the Queen of the Dark cover

Proposal of Submission - Psychic the Saga cover

Salvation | 18+ cover

beneath her shadow

I didn't know I was disappearing until it was almost too late. At first, it was subtle. A missed call here. A joke at my expense there. A delay in responding, followed by a grand explanation that made me feel silly for even asking. You start to wonder if you're imagining things-if your skin has grown too thin, or if the world has always been this cold and you just never noticed. But no, this is different. This is targeted. This is personal. He came to me like a storm pretending to be sunlight. Charming, magnetic, wounded-how I mistook those wounds as something that needed my healing. I didn't know then that narcissistic abuse doesn't always arrive screaming. Sometimes, it tiptoes in wearing the face of love. He said all the right things at the right time, until I stopped trusting my own sense of wrong. The highs were dizzying: he told me I was everything. Special. Unlike anyone he had ever met. He made me feel chosen. And so, I stayed-even when the lows scraped at my bones, even when the words grew sharp and the silence louder than his rage. I didn't see the cage being built because I was too busy decorating it, thinking I was safe inside. The thing about narcissistic pain is that it often masquerades as longing. You ache not just for the person-but for the version of yourself you were when they first looked at you like you mattered. You miss the illusion. You miss the fantasy. And worst of all, you blame yourself when it shatters.