All My Rage Pdf Novels & Stories

However, the instant I enter my brand-new cheap car, I lean my head on the steering wheel and cry again. My hands tremble as I reach for my phone. When I open it and see the image of Mark and Hilda engaging in carnal pleasure, a wave of fury crashes over me. My whole world turns red as I glare at the image, my vision clouded by a storm of rage. No, I won’t take this so calmly like this! All rational thought is gone — replaced by a powerful rage as I toss my phone aside.

"Watch as the 'Replacement' is deleted. And then, I will write the 'First Day' again." I felt something break inside me. It wasn't hope. It was **Rage**. A rage that had been building since the day I woke up in the mud. A rage against the Aethel-Group, against the Shareholders, and against the Reader who kept hitting "Restore" without thinking about the cost. I didn't press the pen to my skin. I pressed the pen to the **Alley Wall**. I didn't use blood. I used the **Shadows**.

He stood with his body tense, but ready to strike, with eyes that burned with an intensity, almost like an uncontrolled fire, ready to burn everything in its path. The air around him was thick, and that familiar feeling of rage moved through him, around him, and then through me. Tension radiated from his clenched jaw and fisted hands, with white knuckles. Axton’s gaze was locked on Allie, without the slightest waver. Only the slightest trembling moving down his body betrayed his unmasked fury.

Romeo POV Rage is a powerful feeling that flows through one's blood like a roaring fire. It is a powerful and primitive force that swallows logic, releasing a torrent of raw and untamed energy. That's what I felt as I marched out of the room, followed by Luca. My mind is consumed by the vile act I had just committed.

“You may dismiss yourself if there is nothing that you are going to tell me.” “This is not even your home to be dismissing me,” I said, and he nodded, slamming the book shut before setting it on the shelves as he kept his eyes on me, looking at me, clearly trying to study what he could of my soul. His eyes met mine and I saw more than just anger, I saw rage in them. He walked toward me, his body towering over mine as he allowed me to see his anger.

Arnold’s POV My face was burning with rage, and it seemed like everything was a blur as I left the crashed meeting, I wanted to uproot the floor underneath me and tear the walls around me down, it was a type of rage I’d never felt before, one that replaced the blood in my veins and made me feel like I was drowning in anger.

~This chapter contains graphics of awful memory lane. Be ready~ ~Kael~ It is in fact true that I'm a maniac—a barbarian. I've been tagged many names but none of them has ever dug my skin as much as the Human Rhett's words do, and he didn't have to say much. All he had to do was to open his mouth and speak words against me. My aura reveals my annoyance as I storm into my room. I'm boiling in rage, my fangs bleeding the inside of my mouth and my claws digging the skin of my palm. But for some reason, I wouldn't show this anger to the one who arose it.

My heart pounds, rage simmering beneath the surface. I stand, my vision narrowing as a single thought consumes me. “Revenge,” I snarl, my voice low and venomous. “It is then.”

" He stammered, scrambling for lies to cover things up. "I'm just an ordinary guy! What could I have done? I didn't want Mia to get hurt either!" An ordinary guy who could afford a villa in the suburbs. An ordinary guy driving a multi-million-dollar luxury car. An ordinary guy with a monthly income in the ten-thousands. "Kieran, have you ever heard of the saying—never provoke a mother, especially one who's lost her mind?" Dagger in hand, I cut open his shirt. Whipping out my marker pen, I drew a circle over where his kidney was. I let the tip of my blade glide along his skin, stirring a wave of shivers through his body.

Chapter Four Mikaela: I didn’t just scream. I tore instead. I couldn't take this anymore. I was tired of proving tough and unbreakable. And their mission was to break me? Well, they got it. It wasn’t fear. It wasn't a weakness. It was rage. Hot, boiling, endless rage. Like a volcano erupted in my chest, struggling to burst out. The kind of volcano you don’t cry through. The kind that makes your skin itch to be peeled off. The kind that comes when everything you ever trusted flips on you like a fucking backstabber in a mask.