Don't Push Me

Don't Push Me

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación dom, ene 1, 2017
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Ficción
Paranormal
An inhumanly cruel, violent, or depraved person. This is the definition of a beast. One way to look at falling is to be captured or defeated. The definition of love is a strong feeling of affection. Why would anyone want to be captured or defeated by a cruel, violent or depraved person because of a strong feeling of affection? In other words, why would anyone want to fall in love with a beast? :Excerpt from the story: "I'm the good one! I always do my best to fend others from harm. I'm the one that can't celebrate my own birthday knowing nothing good will come out of it. I'm the one who can't let anyone into my life in fear they will be the ones hurt. I'm the one that has lost everything and everyone important to me. I get let down by everything, I'm the lost and never found, I'm the hurt but never healed. So answer me this, why was I the one who ended up with the short end of the stick again? Why am I the one who ended up with the beast?" I scream, shivering with anger as I look at the destruction my mate as caused after attacking the last person, the last thread of hope and sanity I had. "Because, Chriselda. You are the only one strong enough to endure that. You are the only one strong enough to tame the beast. The only one able to find him when he has lost himself." He whispers softly. "Well then, consider him lost for good. I quit, I won't be his little rag doll anymore." "Chriselda wait-" "Scott, stop! I don't care. I give up trying to save him." I shout into the rain. "I. Give. Up." The final whispers of defeat tumble from my mouth. I really have fallen.
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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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