Chaotic Soul Novels & Stories

Chaos was born in hell, but I was dragged there by my own mind. “Well, that’s just a damn tragedy, now isn’t it, Zachary? All the possibilities that could have come from the both of us. He’s less deranged than I am on the outside,” Chaos paused, a low, deep chuckle escaping his lips. He leaned down before dragging the claw down the length of Zach’s leg, “But don’t let it fool you, we’re the same on the inside. If you thought, even for a teensy minute, that he might be your savior; you thought wrong.”

If I could nail this tomorrow, at least one part of my life would still make sense. But concentration slipped. My mind wandered back to the text, to the wasted evening, to the sudden emptiness in my chest. I scrolled aimlessly, clicked away from the slides, opened a private browser window out of habit more than intention. Before I could stop myself, I typed the name I had bookmarked months ago but never dared visit when Caleb was home. Her videos loaded instantly. My favorite p**n performer. She had long dark hair, full breasts, confident gaze,filled the screen. The thumbnail alone made my breath catch: her legs spread wide on a velvet chair, fingers already buried deep inside her shaved pus

Its form glitched mid‑sentence. For a heartbeat, the whole cluster stuttered between shapes: a bus headlight, a hospital monitor, a spinning roulette wheel, a blank cursor blinking on an empty screen. Then it snapped back, but a third of its pages had gone gray, their text washed out like overexposed film. “Maybe you’re right,” I whispered. “Maybe there’s chaos. Maybe there’s some other place, some other way souls deal with their shit. Maybe I don’t know what comes after you.”

Well it was a devil printed on his chest above his left nipple extending his hand as in to grab his nipple. Daniel gulped. His jaw was hanging trying to gasp the fucking view in front of him. He wanted to ravish him, eat him. It was taking every ounce of his self-control. But Fuck... He couldn’t stop himself, not when Carson was looking so tempting. Carson was tapping his feet eyes closed, pretending as he was unbothered. But he was freaking from the inside. He knew he had stepped into a den of wild lions. He knew if they both decided to take him, he wouldn’t be able to stop them. And believe me...he would never stop him. ******* Tabby..

Sometimes, the body remembers what the soul tries to forget. It wasn't the pain that broke me, but the way my body stopped belonging to me. Every unwanted touch was another crack. A piece of me vanishing without a sound. I arrived to Chicago months ago, and I still struggle to breathe. This city doesn’t embrace me—it watches me. Everything is clean, cold, precise. Neon lights flicker like fake stars, and the rain hits the windows with military discipline. It’s a world built to function, not to feel.

The red stone against Alia's chest flared with a sudden, sharp prickle of intense heat. "Oh! Sorry, Alia," Abby said, her usual sweet, gentle voice returning instantly as she offered a warm, apologetic smile. "I guess I'm just a little tired today. I've been having the weirdest dreams lately... like I'm watching myself walk around from somewhere very far away." Alia’s breath hitched in her throat. Her mind raced back to what Aidan and Tyrone had said in the living room: 'A possessed host’s soul gets trapped in a dormant state while the spirit takes the wheel... like they are fading.'

chaos was, even after failing several times to control it, these supposed 'geniuses' didn't give up. And their persistence was rewarded. A breakthrough. Individuals with soul based bloodlines could sense chaos. They couldn't just sense it, they were connected to it. It was almost as if chaos had chosen its own warriors. But it had a huge drawback. The more one called upon the power of chaos, the faster they aged. You see, chaos wasn't one to give anything for free. For the power it gave, the price of the user's life force was taken. Generations of spiritualists died prematurely and miserably upon overusing chaos. But life was kind. 'She' was tired of giving up her children to the grim reape

Only if I had known my soul would have been sold for nothing, I would have ended it. The room hadn't changed a bit all these years. Same dark walls that made the room intimidating and the absolute perfection in the way it was organized just as its owner, hiding all that evil just barely underneath the surface, simmering and waiting for the perfect time to strike its prey. I repressed a shudder and took a seat waiting for him to notice my presence in the room. He was writing in a journal on the desk, I had always wondered what he wrote in there, the number of people he killed, or the latest mission he accomplished?

"Why do you say that? Do you want to hurt me? But you haven't succeeded! I love you. I've always loved you. And I don't care what you are, what your past is. I just love your existence. I just love what you are, I love you for being born into this world." Celeste lowered her eyes down and clenched her hands in her fists and said, "I've seen too much death and too much suffering. My soul is black and there is no room in it for love. My heart has long been destroyed. Do you want to love someone like me?" Still on his knees, he bent even lower and looking at her little feet, which were in old shoes, said, "Both in darkness and in daylight, among evil and good, among the living and dead, I love

"I don't want to say it again. Tsk, you deaf? " "Freak you, Xeenalah! What's the codename again? " "H... " "A letter? " "Uhm, I'm not sure. Maybe some symbol from elements… " "Or initial… " She added. "Maybe or I don't know. " "Good thing you said that to me. Freyia's have the same blood as ours but we don't know anything. We can't trust that much anyone now. You know, pain change people, " Celestina said.