Chloefandomarts Inanimate Insanity Novels & Stories

Every few minutes, a rhythmic, haunting chant drifted over the field—the Cult of the Static was fan-outs, moving in a line, beating the ground with heavy staves. "We can't stay here," Mina whispered, her eyes wide with Psychological Horror. "They’re closing the circle. I can hear them breathing." "They aren't just breathing, Mina," David Vance said, his voice trembling as he gripped his driftwood staff. He stopped, looking through a gap in the stalks at the flickering torchlight in the distance. "I know that voice leading the chant. That’s not a priest. That’s Dr. Aris Thorne’s former head of Neurological-Mapping (the study and digital recreation of brain structures), Silas Vane."

Instead, it had become the venue for Chris’s one-man p**n festival. She stormed down the hall, her rage a hot, tight coil in her chest. She didn't bother knocking, just shoved his door open. He was sprawled on his bed, shirtless, jeans unbuttoned, one hand idly tucked into his waistband. The graphic sounds and images filled the small, messy room. "Are you fucking kidding me, Chris? Turn that off! Some of us are actually trying to do something with our lives!" He barely glanced at her, a lazy, infuriating smirk on his face. He paused the video, and the sudden silence was almost as loud. "Chill out, Mia. It's just a video. Don't pretend you've never seen one”.

Claiming My Prize II I left Abigail lying there, sated and yearning, and moved to the next door. Chloe, twenty-two, the artist and the free spirit. Her room was a riot of color, canvases stacked against the walls, the scent of oil paints was thick in the air. She sat on a stool, sketching, her long, red hair falling over her shoulder. She looked up, her green eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, narrowing. “Marcus? What in the hell are you doing here?” Her voice was sharp and bold.

Chloe dimmed the lights like she was setting a mood. Some slow, spicy music started playing from her phone. And right in the middle of the floor— She dropped a big fluffy pillow. With a paper taped to it. “KLAUS” written in bold, messy letters. I stared at it. Then at her. “…You’re not serious.” “Oh, I’m very serious,” Chloe said, cracking her knuckles. Sky perked up instantly. “Oh, this is about to be fun.” I had a very bad feeling about this.

A geriatric leaking ceiling. Rusty water pipes. Religious wallpapers. Hanging crucifixes. A small Bible with yellowed pages. A handmade crown of thorns. Dim candles. The stagnant smell of bleach, lust and charred flesh. A now empty table where the last victim had been housed... A woman's throaty moans pierced the air. A man's deep grunts reverberated, balancing the woman's shrill pleas, levelling her gasps.

I stood looking at myself in the full length mirror with my two Chocolate brown orbs, not really recognising the woman before me. The outfit clung to my curvy body. The bodice pushing up my cleavage in a seductive way. I pulled my hair back into a high ponytail tail, that fell down my back like a dark waterfall. The black leather trousers sat low on my hips, a small band around my tummy visible. There were thigh high leather boots, and a belt to hold my sword which finished the assemble. I couldn’t help but smirk the in the mirror. I may be heading for the pits of hell, but damn did they know how to dress.

"A vampire." I tried to call the attention of the woman but it seems that she doesn't hear me. The vampire slowly approaching them. I shout out of lungs but I feel like I am invisible to them. I want to help them, run to them , but my feet suddenly froze on the spot. I'm not able to stay still where I stand. I can see the vampire approaching. He walked slowly, I felt very scared. Suddenly the vampire's mouth opened and the fang came out and was ready to devour them. I feel frustrated that I can't even help them. Gradually, I just closed my eyes because I couldn’t bear to see two innocent people die at the hands of a vampire. Crying was all I could do as I heard the screams and cries of the c

Her eyes flashed in the dark and they were beautiful. Shola led me away. The silvery pumps on her feet made clacking sounds against the black, glossy tiles of the club’s floor. The heels of her pump looked six inches high. I got a clearer view of Shola as we walked down the aisle. She wasn’t lacking flesh in her buttocks; they were big and round, and her hips didn’t lie. She would pass for Ariel in The Little Mermaid. I was impressed. I couldn’t stop myself from stealing quick glances and marvel at how her ass cheeks shook as I walked behind her. "Are you new here?" She asked as she dragged me along the isle like a mom leading her little child.