A Rage To Live Novel Novels & Stories

Yet, the relentless, bone-rattling electronic bass bleeding through the floorboards did not diminish in intensity for even a single fraction of a second. I let out a low, frustrated snarl, a hot wave of irritation rushing through my veins. Deep down, a small voice whispered that I lacked any legitimate authority to complain given our current temporary living arrangements, but my logic was entirely overridden by the agonizing, sledgehammer rhythm pounding against the inside of my temples.

It wasn’t long before sleep was overtaking me. The room is cold and covered in darkness. I search for a way out or for someone to help me, but there’s nothing. Rubbing my hands up and down my arms to not only fight the cold but the fear that grips my heart. Why am I here, and how did I get here are the questions that swirl around in my head. I keep walking with no end in sight. Then the unthinkable happens. Hands reach from out of the darkness to grip my neck. I fight to get them off. The more I fight, the more they tighten. My lungs are burning as I fight for air. There’s no face, just hands that are trying to take my life. I keep trying to fight, but I’m losing the battle. I feel myself a

“Do one selfless thing for this family. Die. Die so we can finally live.” Something dark rises inside me. It isn't sadness. It isn't fear either. It’s rage. Beautiful wrath that’s burning inside me. I had spent years building a future for people already planning my funeral. Waiting for money I didn’t even know why it existed. Waiting for me to disappear. My hands move before my brain can catch up. I shove Daniel hard. He stumbles backward. For the first time he doesn't look like has everything in control. I stand quickly. My legs are shaking. But I try not to crumble. I look at each of their faces.

The glass of water, now lukewarm. I look at the pillows Spadino piled on the bed. A mountain of soft, suffocating velvet. I look at the door where the lock used to be. I can't breathe. It starts in my chest. A tightness. A heat. It spreads to my throat, choking me. It spreads to my hands, making my fingers twitch. It isn't fear. It isn't sadness. It is rage. Pure, molten, radioactive rage. I am tired of being handled. I am tired of being protected. I am tired of being a vessel, a prize, a problem, a patient.

Humanity trembled under the emotional assault. The observers panicked immediately. “This is the Collapse Rage.” “Containment impossible after separation phase.” The ancient entity beneath the foundation sounded devastated. “This was the part they feared most.” My throat tightened painfully. Because readers understood this kind of transformation too. The moment heartbreak hardens into emotional destruction. When pain stops asking to be healed And starts wanting revenge instead. The rage-consciousness surged violently through the layers. A thousand screaming voices wrapped into one. “If connection creates suffering… then destroy connection.”

Their faces turned red, they took out their cellphones at the same time. "Miss Meiran, we're fans of you. We are rainbows. Can we take a picture with you?" Rainbows is the name of her readers. She's now a Author. Only her rainbows can only see her face because she has her own platform that only true rainbows can enter. They also have a international group chat. All her readers was there. They're so respectful. She told them that she hope no one else will know her face. They cannot tell that to others who are not part of their platform. She's very thankful and proud to them, her readers are not toxic. They're so understanding at she can handle them easily.

Rage was arrested because he killed the king. He killed him when he knew that the king was the one who gave an order to the house of spades to kill his parents. After three days, he was executed in public. Elena didn’t do anything because until the last moment, she believed that there was no use in having him in her life, and that it would be better if Rage will vanish. But as soon as she saw him right before her, the regret and sorrow filled her once hollow chest.

The way her body molded to his, the way she pressed herself against him, it was too much. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a thunderous reminder of my rage. The need to kill, to destroy, surged through me like a tidal wave, but I fought it back. I couldn’t kill him, not yet. Not with her in the room, not with her watching. But the urge was there, simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to break free at any moment.

Myra I can’t believe this, how much does he love this bitch that he won’t even let me into the mansion unless she says so, I need to talk to my parents to tell them the story I told him so we can all have the same story then I need to get into the mansion and put that bitch in her place and out of my life.

Sabizina gasped, the heat of his hand seeping through the wool. At that exact moment, one of the twins kicked—a powerful, rhythmic thud directly against Rage’s palm. Rage froze. His entire body went rigid. The man who was famous for having a heart of ice suddenly looked like he’d been struck by lightning. He didn't pull away. He pressed harder, his fingers splaying across her stomach as if he were trying to memorize the vibration of the life inside. "You're not dying, Sabizina," Rage said, his voice thick with a new, terrifying kind of resolve. "You’re going to live. In a palace. Under a guard so thick even a ghost couldn't find you."