Agony In Pink Novels & Stories

And, just when the pain was at its worst, it dissipated, like fog off some terrible lake. A dull sciatic ache had settled into her throbbing chest. She wanted to at least settled on a harsh half-stifled yell, screaming to attest, appease the pain sheeted through her with a terrible intensity. It was more than the first time she had seen Midnight with her. Agnes Garcia. Rio isn’t a fool. Obvious at how she was incomparable with her. Agnes is a woman who mirrored power—empowered by her name, and the issues circulating about her and Midnight going out together, when it is supposed to be the two of them.

She had no clue about anything and thus looked around to check the surroundings in case there was someone around. She wanted to get up but her lower abdomen felt an extreme pang of discomfort. Agnes looked down at herself and then stared at her naked body. At once she stepped out of bed totally forgetting the waves of pain that were circulating in her whole body. “What the fuck!? No, no! No one can do this to me!” Agnes snarled in that empty room as she grew angier.

I swear, even my blood was holding its breath. I locked the screen and set the phone face-down on the kitchen counter like it was a bomb I didn’t know how to defuse. “Girl, what’s got your face doing that haunted Victorian orphan thing again?” I spun around. Agnes. In all her chaotic midnight glory. Oversized Bon Jovi T-shirt. Fuzzy pink socks. Under-eye patches that glittered like disappointment and debt. I blinked rapidly. “Nothing. Just… indigestion.” Agnes didn’t buy it. Not for a second.

-I'm calling mine, The Bad Girl Wears Pink [the story of Secret Nolan]. You aren't bad unless you have your own sigil/symbol/mark. -how about a pink panther better yet a tigress? You aren't bad unless you've met all the requirements on the bad list. -I'm the reason they made this list. You aren't bad until you've proven you are bad. - Not to toot my own horn or whatever...but I make the 'faceless men' run for cover. You aren't bad until everyone acknowledges the fact that you are indeed bad. - It's hard to deny.

Agony had twisted my face into an inhuman mask. Dried black blood caked the corners of my mouth. It was a gruesome stain, proof of the silver poison my body had fought to expel. My eyes were clouded, pupils fixed and dilated, staring at a ceiling they couldn't see. But my neck... my neck was a nightmare. The emotion-suppressing collar was dark. Its light was dead. The skin around it was charred black, eaten away by countless injections of silver.

Sometimes I wonder, given how much we both have to give up, what do we get in exchange for our efforts? Wynn glanced in Agnes's way but said nothing to her as he continued to drink straight from his glass. Agnes is aware that both of them are in pain since she lives in secret and is unable to be free because she does not want Riffen to discover her, and Wynn continues to work for Riffen eternally despite the fact that he is a highly conceited individual.

Melody said, turning back to Agnes, who stood a far distance from them. Mary blushed as she stared at him, and Herculia let out an annoyed grunt. “Five against one? That doesn't seem fair at all. But not that it matters; I'll pound you all into the ground with only one hand,” Agnes said loudly with a terrifying smile on her face. Her body was enveloped in bright white flames, and her irises glowed brightly. She put her right hand behind her back and stretched her left hand forward. "Alright, everyone except for my aunt, on three!!!” Mary yelled.

Her words elicited murmuring from the congregation. “However,” she continued after a brief moment. “That has taught me something. I now agree that I was thoughtless and insensitive. I should not have argued with him. And I beg you to overlook that bit of my sinful past and forgive me. I am sincerely sorry and I pledge to reform myself.” Pabonya was not satisfied with Becky's version of apology.

He left the room afterwards but Pink already lost it, she felt blood oozing out from the back of her head, she touched the back of her head to see her hand soaked with her blood. She gasped out as she falls to the floor. With her blood everywhere on the wall and floor, she fainted. TBC

Agony detonates through my body, violent and absolute, my muscles locking involuntarily as the poison accelerates under direct contact. They drag me backward. Away from her. Away from my mate. The panic that follows is unfamiliar. Raw. Terrifying. Not fear of death. Fear of separation. Mine. The word becomes desperate. Urgent. Absolute. They pull harder. My knees hit concrete. Cold. Unforgiving. Another restraint snaps shut. Silver. Everywhere. Against skin. Inside blood. Extinction tightening its grip. They force me down. Hands press against my shoulders. My neck. Preparing sedation.