Books Similar To Diary Of An Oxygen Thief Novels & Stories

, Rachel grunts. I want to say "Why", but I don't want to risk sounding like a creep so I whatever her and go back to going through the rest of the shelf even though I'd done that a thousand times before. I drag my hands across the spines of the books; Kara Taylor's Prep School Confidential, Carol Wyer's The Secret Admirer, and Megan Goldin's The Night Swim. You would be subtle to call Rachel a crime-thriller addict - she's more of a crime freak. The Night Swim. There is a piece of paper sticking out of it. I pull it out of the book. Something is scribbled across it in Rachel's handwriting.

He walked closer and put everything on the nightstand before he shoved his hands into his pocket, looking awkward. It was difficult to believe that Dario was related to Lorenzo. Even with the uncanny resemblance, their biggest difference was their personalities. Dario was much warmer and innocent. I wonder if he'd lose that, too, when he became older. I picked up the bowl and pushed a spoon of sugary treats into my mouth. Chocolate chip. Dario came a bit closer. “I wasn't so sure what kind of book you like, so I bought a memoir, a thriller, a romance, and a fantasy book. We don't have many new books in the library downstairs,”

But even so, Adrian still didn't know what pulled him so strong to get into the interior of the house. “For some reason, I feel like there's nothing so special in this room. I felt the pull coming from the other direction. But, I have to find something in this room. Maybe my instincts are wrong...." Adrian muttered slowly. Then Adrian began to walk closer to the tables in the room of the late Alexis parents there, and opened them. Adrian saw old books that looked very worn and dusty there. Slowly, Adrian took the books, and began to open them. Adrian read a few pages from the pages in the book. “A diary?” Adrian muttered realizing what the book actually contained.

“No… It doesn’t. But it felt as if it was burned into my skin.” “It’s the same design as the one on the book…” Leo adds with a frown. “Can you read it?” Thea implores curiously. “Yeah… - I nod, skimming through the contents - It’s like a journal. Or a diary… Would you mind if I went to read it in peace?” “No, no. Go ahead.” I go to the bedroom in the back before turning the book to the first page and start reading.

I wasn’t a fan of theft, but my hand’s literally itched to take possession of that one shirt that will no doubt give me unexplainable satisfaction. HOLD IT!.. We all find our guilty pleasure in a variety of different things, and mine undoubtedly is everything linked to anime. Thus I reach out to it, not to steal it but to have a better look at it. However, as I lay my hand upon the wall or so I thought, what seems to be a flat rectangle plate emerges from nowhere. It bore a book on top that resembled a diary. Curiosity taking the better of me, I lift my right hand as I reach out for it. Holding a firm grasp on it, I sit criss-crossed on the floor, making myself comfortable and ready to obtai

Dmitri gazed at the crusted bloodstains on the rotted wooden floor as Quinn heaved heavily, “I’m gonna puke.” “All of you, leave the room and search the area again,” Dmitri ordered and they gratefully left the room, no hesitation. As much as the smell and sight of this room were awful, he knew he could stand it. Like the other rooms, this study needs to be searched for anything and everything, no matter how disgusting and revolting it is. He made his way over to the large desk that sat on the other side of the room, ignoring the bloodstains and the mummified flesh that has dropped onto it, and rummaged through the yellowed papers of spells and ways to torture and drawings of her victims. Dmi

Perhaps that had something to do with my birth father? Most of the books were leatherbound tomes, plain in appearance though they radiated waves of dark magic. On one shelf in particular sat a bunch of thinner books. I pulled one out and flicked through its pages. It seemed to be a journal of sorts, though it didn’t say who it belonged to. I pulled out one of the journals and flipped through its pages, freezing when I noticed the odd color of ink. It was the same as the page Denver had used that night.

Yet, there was an unmistakable presence that lingered behind. My eyes immediately landed on the disarray of belongings scattered around—a half-folded sweater draped over a chair, a pen precariously close to rolling off the edge of the desk, and a small leather book shoved clumsily behind a lamp. As I stepped closer, curiosity got the best of me. I pulled the book out, brushing away a thin layer of dust that had settled on top. It was a diary—Reya's diary. My heart dropped. I opened it carefully, flipping through the pages filled with notes from class, doodles of flowers and strange symbols, and the margins packed with her thoughts—snippets of poetry, quotes she adored, and random observation

A book lay open, its pages made of thin sheets of copper. "These are stolen," she hissed, her finger hovering over a line of text. "This is High Elven. This is a treatise on star-navigation. They stole it when they burned the Silver Spires." "They steal everything," Tristan said, moving deeper into the room. "Keep moving. We’re looking for 'Project Apotheosis' or 'The God-Shell'. Look for the Emperor’s seal." They split up, moving down opposite sides of the narrow aisle. Saoirse scanned the spines. The Anatomy of Angels. Void Theory. The Ethics of Soul Fragmentation.

June 13,2024 Dear Reader, If you’ve found this diary, then fate has strange plans for you. This isn’t a story of heroes, or even of the living. What you’re about to read isn’t fiction — not entirely. These pages carry the weight of things unseen, unheard, and often misunderstood. So before you turn another page, ask yourself: Are you ready to see the world through the eyes of someone who walks among both the living and the dead? If not, close this now.