Moth
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- Parts 30
Complete Tue, Feb 17, 20158h 12m
They say the world used to turn. They say that night would follow day in an endless dance. They say that dawn rose, dusk fell, and we worshiped both sun and stars.
That was a long time ago.
The dance has died. The world has fallen still. We float through the heavens, one half always in light, one half always in shadow. Like the moth of our forests, one wing white and the other black, we are torn.
My people are the fortunate. We live in daylight, blessed in the warmth of the sun. Yet across the line, the others lurk in eternal night, afraid... and alone in the dark.
I was born in the light. I was sent into darkness. This is my story.
All Rights Reserved
#948
epic
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The world is ending and I have unlimited supplies
They said the world was ending, but it didn't start with fire or war. It began with a storm-just like any other. But this time, it didn't stop. The rain fell for days, then weeks, and then came the flood that drowned everything. When the sun finally broke through the clouds, people thought it was over. They thought it was hope. But that hope was a lie. The sun scorched the land. Insects bred in the rotting water. Plague spread like wildfire. Water became scarce, food even scarcer. They said Mother Earth was angry, and I believed them. I did everything to survive. Even if it meant relying on a filthy, twisted man for bread. He preyed on girls like me-young, desperate, orphaned. He fed us, clothed us, and in return, demanded we sell our bodies. He called it "the price of protection." Men came to us like vultures. They stripped away our innocence and left us hollow. And then, one winter night, starving people stormed our hideout. They came with knives and desperation. I threw myself in front of the youngest girl when one lunged to stab her. I took the blade meant for her. As my body went cold, I felt no fear. Just peace. Finally, I thought. This nightmare is over. But when I opened my eyes again... I was in my bed. Warm. Dry. Dressed in pajamas. It hadn't been a nightmare. It had been real. And now, it's happening all over again. But this time, I won't be weak. This time, I won't be used. This time... I'll survive. No matter the cost.
"It didn't have to be this way"
There is a world out there where I could have been happy. Where we could have been friends, and you could have benefited from what I know. Unfortunately, we don't live there. This is not a romance novel. Do not think this is a romance. Not all mobile devices will be able to show all the text accurately, as I use fonts as a conveyer of mental health. Warning Every warning you can think of. There will be gore rape torture and what is worse. Also, I make stories by writing the story plot and everything, and rewriting it to fit in the small details. The chapters all the final ones but the story itself has been finished.
Life and Death
Disclaimer: This novel involves abuse, sexual abuse and suicide. A destiny I never chose. A life I never wanted. A heart I swore never to give again. Death should have been my release. Instead, I awoke in another world... in another body... in another life. It should have been a second chance. But scars don't fade just because the skin is new. The memories still haunt me, silent shadows that twist my every thought, every fear, every breath. I care for no one. I trust nothing. I wish only for an end... yet something, some cruel, invisible force always pulls me back from the edge. I am a pawn dressed in silk and gold, forced into a game I never agreed to play. But even in a heart frozen by trauma, the warmth of life begins to seep in. Slowly, I begin to feel again. To breathe again. To hope. Then fate strikes once more. Another decision, made without me. Another future, sealed by hands not my own. And I realize... I may have escaped death, but not destiny. In a world of monsters, thrones and betrayal, can a shattered soul carve her own fate or will the past always bind her to a future she never wanted?
刺され、最強の魔術師として蘇る。平和を望む。力は混沌をゆく。
"You're gonna get stabbed one of these days, seriously." I used to just laugh off my friends' warnings. Blessed with a silver tongue, I'd toyed with countless women since I was a child, and my college days were spent cycling through dozens of them. I was that kind of womanizing scumbag, and I genuinely believed there was no way I'd ever get stabbed in a law-abiding country like Japan. ...That is, until the night an ex-girlfriend I'd carelessly tossed aside stabbed me in the back. As my consciousness faded, I remembered my grandmother's words, "Everything you do comes back to you," and I died regretting my own foolishness.
Before The Rebuild: The Prequel to Rebuilt
Before Mike, before the love story people know now, there was me-raw, broken, and surviving. This is the truth I never thought I'd be strong enough to tell. I was 22 years old when my life shattered. I was raped in a back alley and left bleeding, alone. When I turned to the police, hoping for help, they didn't protect me-they shamed me. They called me slurs. They asked me what I'd done to deserve it. What I had worn. Whether I had "led him on." No one believed me. Nine months later, I gave birth to my son. I named him Aerion Jace Rosier-Aj. His name means strength, wisdom and power in Greek. I gave him that name because i wanted him to have everything I felt had been stolen from me. He was my light, even in the darkest time of my life. But the darkness wasn't done with me. My two older children, Samuel and Emilie, ended up with my first ex's mother, and I lost all parental rights to them. And then came the 18 months of sex trafficking. They used Aj as collateral-my baby was the only reason i obeyed. I was forced to do what they wanted, or they would have killed him. They only let me see him for one hour each day. I was deprived of food, stripped of dignity, starved down to 75 pounds. I remember the blue car Aj was in the day the police sting finally saved us. But even after we were freed, i wasn't really free. the PTSD haunted me. I avoided certain materials, certain places, even certain sounds. And every night, I heard the voices. Every relationship after that was wrong-narcissists who broke me down even further. Men who convinced me I was unworthy, unwanted. My current ex even told my son Aj that he wasn't wanted-that he was nothing. I let it happen, and the guilt kills me. I became "the girl who never cried." I thought if I never cried, maybe none of it really happened. But the truth is, it didn't. And it changed me.
In Shadows of Night
I woke to a sudden breeze invading the warmth from the heavy blanket that caressed my skin. Here, alone with my thoughts, the still, calm quiet in the atmosphere is almost painful. I feel suffocated in the clingy, static air. In quiet, still moments like these, I can almost feel Him. I don't know who "Him" is, but I can feel his presence. It's almost calming, especially on fearful, anxiety fueled nights. Usually, he was the strongest when I had a nightmare. The nightmares weren't as common now, but, right after everything happened, I was having them every night. I'd wake up and swear I was drenched in blood, my eyes and lips sticky, my nose filled with the smell of iron and fuel. After everything, that's when Him first came. From there, he just never left. I can usually sense when Him is near. Today, though, his presence is stronger. I can almost feel Him next to me, weighing down the mattress. Some nights, I roll over and imagine how he looks, envision his smile or the sparkle in his eyes. He's never there and I'm left clutching to the thought that he exists, staring into empty air. Tonight, though, I swear I can reach out and touch him. Extending my hand gently, I sweep my hand out into the darkness and meet an inexplicable warmth. A scream rips from my lungs as hands cover my face and two icy blue eyes stare back at me, daring me to speak again. A soft cloth caressed my nose and mouth before I felt myself fade into bed. All Rights Reserved. Contains graphic descriptions of violence and assault. Contains battle scene.Complete
Unmask
"You trust me, don't you?" he says with a smile, that smile. It had fooled everyone, even me at some point, and for the first time I want to scream with rage and shake the earth to the core. "Give me a hug," he says pulling me out of the chair that feels like a rock underneath me. I am as stiff as a board as his hands circle me, making me feel worse than dirt. His hands reach between my thighs and I want to plunge a knife deep through his chest. The only thing stopping me is, the knife is no where near. I pull back and I don't try to hide the anger in my eyes. I want him to see it. To know that I am coming for him. Rape is chanted repeatedly in my mind, reminding of the lies I just told and the false accusations I am throwing on innocent people. He's probably figured it out anyways, surely a Priest as high as he cannot be deceived. But none of that matters anymore because...... This is just the Beginning.Complete
The Day I Turned To Stone
They said it would only feel like a moment. Close my eyes, drift off, and wake beneath another sun. I believed them. We all did. The world was ending, and The Passage Program was our last chance to save what was left of it. Sleep through the ruin. Wake to a beginning. I don't remember falling asleep. Just the weight of the air, the pressure in my chest, the feeling that something inside me was... slipping. If I'm awake now, why can't I move? If I'm alive, why does everything feel so still? They said I'd wake to a new world. They never said what it would cost.
They said the world was ending, but it didn't start with fire or war. It began with a storm-just like any other. But this time, it didn't stop. The rain fell for days, then weeks, and then came the flood that drowned everything. When the sun finally broke through the clouds, people thought it was over. They thought it was hope. But that hope was a lie. The sun scorched the land. Insects bred in the rotting water. Plague spread like wildfire. Water became scarce, food even scarcer. They said Mother Earth was angry, and I believed them. I did everything to survive. Even if it meant relying on a filthy, twisted man for bread. He preyed on girls like me-young, desperate, orphaned. He fed us, clothed us, and in return, demanded we sell our bodies. He called it "the price of protection." Men came to us like vultures. They stripped away our innocence and left us hollow. And then, one winter night, starving people stormed our hideout. They came with knives and desperation. I threw myself in front of the youngest girl when one lunged to stab her. I took the blade meant for her. As my body went cold, I felt no fear. Just peace. Finally, I thought. This nightmare is over. But when I opened my eyes again... I was in my bed. Warm. Dry. Dressed in pajamas. It hadn't been a nightmare. It had been real. And now, it's happening all over again. But this time, I won't be weak. This time, I won't be used. This time... I'll survive. No matter the cost.
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