Angry Deadpool Novels & Stories

CHAPTER SEVEN Part of Aleta’s favorite red hoodie turned up in some bramble outside of the city. It was cut, shredded, and stained. Animals had been gnawing and tearing at it, pulling it apart thread by thread by thread with their canines and incisors and grinding molars. From what they recovered of Aleta’s body, she had also been gnawed and ripped, but the animals pulling her apart had been a different sort. Angry Marie made a decision, then, and the impact of that decision would way heavy in her soul for the rest of her life. But seeing as her soul was pretty much tattered beyond recognition anyway, it didn’t seem like that much of a leap.

In anger, he shot them all and they dropped dead as he continued. His couldn't control his anger as he kept firing at every mobsters or maid he come across. His opportunity to find his parents murderer just went down the drain and he couldn't help but keep getting angrier. Maids ran into hiding as they didn't want to be victims of Lucifer's wrath... ★★★★★ DARK VIPERS CLAN* LUCIFER'S LAIR* He had a tobacco pipe in between his lips as he didn't stop smoking excessively. He was extremely ravaged as his eyes went red, his expression really cold.

Dark Soldiers’ Base – Med-Bay Observation Deck The sterile white of the medical bay was a stark contrast to the grimy chaos of the warehouse. Through the thick glass, we watched a team of doctors and medical drones work on Amy. She lay on a central table, surrounded by glowing holographic readouts and whirring machines. The two puncture wounds on her neck were covered with a clear bio-gel, but a dark, web-like pattern was already spreading under her skin, creeping toward her jawline.

“You should have died. I should have killed you!” Jolting up and awake from his nightmare. His breath is heavy as he catches his breath. Covering his face with his hand as his right eye pins down to his left hand. He crumples it into a fist as he clicks his tongue where hate and anger towards everything are eating him alive and inside.

She had escaped from the crypt. "He's not dead! He's not dead!" Daphne threw herself onto the coffin, pounding on the lid like a woman possessed, her voice so shredded it was barely human. "Stellan isn't dead! He's not dead! He's not dead! You can't bury him! He's really not dead!" The chapel erupted. Everyone stared at Daphne in shock, then at the coffin, then at each other.

He awkwardly, violently launched his violently shivering, half-naked body completely forward, aggressively landing entirely on top of the massive, brutally crippled guard. "You actively thought I was completely, permanently dead, you entirely diseased animal," Aryan wheezed lethally, a terrifying, unimaginably dark growl actively tearing completely through his severely crushed, actively bleeding throat. His entirely unrecognizable, heavily shredded face violently twisted entirely into a terrifying mask of pure, absolute feral rage.

The moment I realized that no one was coming to save me, I had become my own hero. I have killed and slaughtered without care. The truth is I don't have any recollection of how or what did I do. I completely zoned out, consumed with anger and loathing. I only saw black as I felt myself drowning in a molasses-like daze. And there's no other way out but to swim through it and to fight it. I wouldn't be here if I didn't break through that hell.

By unjustly taking Gadreel’s life he had broken a sacred vow, and now he had fallen. This was going to make saving the human race harder. He was no longer mad, he was pissed. Standing he grabbed one of his wings and it trailed behind him as he marched towards the girl that was making his life a literal hell.

he adds. “Do that. Bring him to me dead or alive, either way, I want to see the scumbag.” Matteo leaves the room angrily. I don’t know why he’s so angry. We’ve finally caught the guy’s face and it will be easier to find him so why’s he flipping out like a ten-year-old?

His T-shirt clings to him, soaked with sweat, chest rising and falling like he ran here, fueled by rage alone. I continue the trail of adjectives that Haley started in my head … hot, devastating, handsome, strong, manly, godlike, sexy, perfect … “What the fuck, Mel —” He slams his hands on the table. Green fire flashes in his eyes, sharp and lethal. This is the exact look they had in mind when they coined ‘if looks could kill’. Unfortunately for him, I was raised by four crazy brothers who perfected that look. I’ve survived worse. Hell — if you can survive an angry Jackson, you can survive anything.