Novel & Cerita Bloody Cruel Psycho

Psycho soon gained an upper hand when she got her opponent in a lock hold. The got struggled to free herself and watched as her face began to turn blue and the got looked like she was giving up and then up and she went with her teeth which she clamped down hard on the arm holding. A pain scream tore out from Psycho lips. He tried to withstand the pain but couldn't maintain his hold as the goth dug in deeper with her teeth. At last when Psycho let go, Percy noticed blood dripping from the the teeth marks on his forearm. The bite had really been vicious.

After drinking water, Crista returned to her room. She then changed her clothes and lay on the bed. The lights in her room were off, so she could clearly see the vast whiteness of snow outside the window. Her lips curved into a bitter smile as she took out a silver knife. It gleamed in the dark. Without hesitation, she heavily slid the sharp blade on her wrist, making blood gush out in an instant.

Psycho wondered as his patched and cracked lips refused to part to even allow him to speak. He didn’t know why he couldn’t move as freely as he wanted, for his eyes were struggling to adapt to the piercing brightness of the sun. He could not see properly. His body just felt unusually heavy. Almost as though there was something keeping him bound. The last time he felt this way was right before he awakened as an Undead. For before he opened his eyes to this world that he knew, his body would not listen to him. Since then, he had clawed his way through the bitterness of mediocrity to become an integral part of Dark Shadow’s forces. His brutal nature and demonic actions had earned him a spot in

He muttered under his breath closing the door behind him as he barged into the familiar space, his heart rapidly drumming against his chest as his brain struggled to remain focus… the walls all around him spinning out of control as he growled irritably… “Ahh! What the fuck is going on… my head… ahh!” Victor slumped onto to cold tiled floors; pulling on his hair in sheer mental torment, yelling in confusion as a series of images invaded his subconscious mind… his thoughts were thrown into complete and utter chaos as trails of red liquid poured out from the corners of his orbs… his eyes were bleeding. ********************

The nickname shot through me and my head snapped so fast toward the window I nearly cracked my neck. And there he was, the exact same psycho from my dream, only now he wasn’t some phantom fading with morning light, he was real, standing right there not too far from me, tall and still, beautiful in that monstrous way that made my stomach twist, his mouth faintly stained with blood, his sharp canines catching what little moonlight spilled through the glass. His eyes glowed like coals freshly pulled from a fire, a violent, unnatural red that locked onto me with such intensity I thought my chains might melt.

Just a limbo of muted colors and carefully placed illusions. The blanket is the same too. It's too soft and too clean. It's the kind of luxury that makes your skin itch because it isn't about comfort... It's more or less about this psycho's twisted psychological game. The last thing I remember was being drugged... how long have I been out for? A strangled scream tears from the center of my chest before I can stop it. I sit up fast and hurl the nearest pillow across the room. It hits the vanity table with a hollow thud knocking something over.

I was just waiting for him to release me then I promised to make him pay and bleed to death "You thought you were a smart guy...what did you think dancing with that fool Victor would scare me," he said through gritted teeth and I knew he was angry but I didn't care. I wanted to rip him into shreds but suddenly he gripped me by the neck so fast that I couldn't breathe "you little bitch will be on four for me...I'll fuck you so hard that you will never walk again!" he yelled so much and tightened his grip around me. I wanted to die or at least tell but the way he was g digging his filthy nails in my flesh sent a jolt of pain throughout my body that I could breathe. My eyes were watering from t

“Alessandro isn’t easy to kill. He’s too powerful. You can’t just take him down like that…” “You don’t need to worry about me.” Bradley frames my face gently, leaning his temple against mine as both his thumbs brush over my wet cheeks. “Alessandro isn’t some god. He’s gotten away with a lot, but not this. He’s met his end with me.” I swallow thickly and force a nod, even though fear coils tight around my chest. I’ve seen what Alessandro is capable of. He’s a psychopath. He doesn’t blink when he mutilates a man. Death is mercy to him. I’ve watched him break people; body and spirit, while they begged for the end.

he said his eyes bloodshot and filled with resentment. “It will be fun.” He said as he laughed again. I gazed at him and moved my hand and slapped him on his cheek. He stopped laughing and moved his hand on his cheek. He gazed at his hand at the blood that trickled from the blow of the cuffs on my hands. He smirked at me as his cold eyes held mine. “How dare you..” he said as he gritted his teeth. Suddenly I felt a searing pain on my back. I cried in agony as I gazed at Claus. He smirked at me, his left hand holding a whip that I never saw him have it in the first place.

"It's a party organized by bastards, but don't be depressed there, have fun." Did he want me to be depressed and have fun? I was amazed by him. This sentence was exactly for anger, but it was his voice that got in the way of my anger. I've heard that tone before... He used the same weird tone when he offered me soup at the stone house. That strange nervous tone that shows his embarrassment, unique to Edim Demiray . I gave him a strange, meaningless look; Experts said that murderers are usually psychopaths, and psychopaths are incapable of empathizing, but for a moment I seemed to see understanding in his dark eyes. He agreed to go to the party for me? Why?