Beautifully Cruel Romane & Geschichten

The edges were as sharp as a knife that can cut through anything. I marveled at their elegance as examined them more. The claws curved gracefully, resembling the talons of some mystical creature from a fantastical realm. Their beauty was captivating, almost hypnotic, and it was impossible to tear my gaze away from them. The contrast between the silvery-blue claws and my own skin made them even more striking. It was as if I had acquired a piece of the night sky itself, crystallized into this exquisite form.

This world is so cruel. ***

My record, “She’s a criminal, a murderer, a no-good bitch who has killed someone in cold blood. I don’t think your perfect family needs such a mess on your hands. I, on the other hand,” She paused, a slight smirk on her lips to truly reveal her ugly character flashed at me, but almost instantly, it disappeared. “Have no record, and I am the most beautiful twin.”

Her smile never quite reached her eyes; instead, they gleamed with a sharp, cruel delight, like a predator savoring the chase. The elegance of her face only made the wickedness more unsettling, every soft feature laced with a quiet promise of malice. She was beautiful, yes but in the way a poisonous flower is, inviting you closer even as it prepares to destroy you. She was the real villain. It wasn't Xander or Isabel or bluey in this case. Bianca was the type of person that destroys without letting you know. You have no say in what she does.

I try to move, but I'm stuck, reminded that I'm only just an observer. A woman steps gracefully out from the surrounding shadows. The woman from all my previous, agonizing visions. Her face is no longer half-rotten or decayed. It’s entirely, exquisitely beautiful now, hauntingly so. A chilling beauty that feels fundamentally wrong, like a smooth, perfect mask stretched deliberately over something ugly and cruel.

But she, she could probably make supermodel body-conscious. Actually, I don’t think I’ve seen a she-wolf look this good. Ever. Same with humans. There are a few supernaturals who are gifted with incredible beauty though, so that could be it. The thing with this is that, as a rule, anything too unnaturally pretty or ugly, by and large, means predators. Unnatural ugliness is generally a good way to scare people. A lot of things thrive of fear. Either they feed on it, or grow stronger with it, or just enjoy terrifying their preys. Typically, there is a ratio, the uglier it gets, the scarier it is. Like if the inner ugliness or monster hood is reflected in its appearance. And there is a similar

The kitchen was far from silent—the wind outside whispered through the open window, tousling his already unruly hair and adding to his ethereal allure. It was such a fucking cruel irony. He was breathtakingly beautiful. So enchanting and tempting. Yet, I couldn't allow myself to succumb to him again. He was a beautiful disaster—a force that had already shattered me once, and I couldn't afford to be broken again—it'd fucking ruin me.

A small scar cuts through his left eyebrow, pale and thin, old enough to have faded but still visible. He’s beautiful in the way that dangerous things are beautiful. Like a storm on the horizon or a wildfire cresting a ridge. The kind of beauty that makes you want to look and run away at the same time. But it’s his eyes that stop my heart. Burning gold. Not warm or soft or inviting. Predatory.

She said in a croaked voice and he only smirked. "I'm going to kill you anyway so why don't you do your job one last time," He sniggered while squeezing her wrist painfully. His words were like a sharp dagger straight through her heart. This person was no one to her yet his words were poisonous enough to rattle her soul. "B...because of m...men like you, this world is a cruel place," She said in a low voice as her tears continued to mix with the rain. She was trembling because of the cold rain and fear. She couldn't look him in the eyes anymore. There was the wrath of destruction swarming in his obsidian gaze.

My chest pounded hard. I crept towards the broken window and peered inside. A man held his bleeding hand and kept screaming. In Damian’s hand, was a knife covered in blood. My hands flew to my mouth as a gasp escaped. Damian turned to me but before his eyes could catch my sight, I turned away. My feet rooted to the spot. Then Damian called, “come inside, Janelle.” My fingers tightened around the door handle, but I didn’t move. “Don’t make me drag you!” He said again.