Dark Impulses Novels & Stories

I am different things, I am my demons, I am my sister's killer, I am darkness, I am broken, but never am I light, never am I happy, never am I smiling truly and it's all because I can never be this things. I am darkness. I am broken. I am unbelievably damaged. I am a broken artist who has lost his muse. I am the devil's child. I am darkness, the sooner everyone sees that, the better for them. I saw it a long time ago and God knows I had no choice but to accept it.

I open my eyes and lets tears wet the pillow beneath my head. "D-Don't y-you have a-any m-mistresses?" I ask with trembling voice. After hearing me he grips my arm and make me face him. His face is hard. "Don't you ever fucking dare to ask such question again!" He says in hard voice. "Besides this the thirst of mine can only be quenched by you." Is he bipolar? One minute he is angry and next minute he is sweet. He moves my hair from my neck and starts nibbling on my neck.

"The second is The Whispering Void. A psychological world. It attacks your mind directly, bypassing physical defenses entirely. It shows you your fears, your failures, your worst possible futures, and it makes them feel absolutely real. You'll experience every trauma you've ever suppressed, every nightmare you've tried to forget, every anxiety amplified to unbearable levels. Deadies have been known to go completely, irreversibly insane within minutes of entering. You'll need to cross it in four hours while maintaining your sanity and sense of direction in absolute darkness." The second image was somehow worse in its simplicity. Just darkness. Absolute darkness that seemed to move, to breathe

my chest sinks with dysphoria as I luridly watch my ascent toward a malevolent being hanging in the sky. This isn’t me. I see myself flash behind the source of this impregnable darkness birthing the endless swarm of Darklings and with a second, I’m grabbing a neck and wringing out agonizing cries from it, adding building pressure as my hand around its neck begins to spark with blue current, preceding the impending rush of Demon-expelling fire. This is not me, I’m not in control of my body. Is it Runa? ‘Runa, are you there?’ I call out in my vain struggles, unable to unhinge myself from this compulsive darkness. I don’t feel my wolf and then it dawns upon me, that whatever is in perfect contr

A gasp tore through my throat like a poisoned arrow and I shot to my feet, blinking away the nightmare that played behind my lids only seconds ago. “So real, how could it feel so real?” I wheezed, scrambling out the bed and heaving over the porcelain bowl of the washroom sink just before my guts heaved up even more of my poisoned blood. “Goddess and seven hells, Laziel. You have finally gone mad.” I chuckled bitterly, glaring at my reflection in the dirty mirror. “Side effects of The Darkness include fever dreams, wolf maladies, hallucinations…delirium,” I muttered, recalling the words from the scribe’s handbook after the first plague of the darkness hit all those years ago.

Javier To say a fucking farewell to the day someone pushed me too far, was inevitable. Dimitri, those demons who took a hold of Scarlett’s soul, controlling her to their fetish desires and blah blah... My darkness itself, unleashing it time it got pissed. My father, who was currently hospitalized. Didn’t know why I didn’t regret it. Maybe I forced myself to. But each damn time I fucking thought of it, I derived pleasure. My darkness… was an outlet that made me happy.

Brings me to the absolute trembling edge and pulls back, leaving me wrecked and desperate and saying things I'll probably be embarrassed about tomorrow. "I'm a bad girl, Daddy. Punish me. I'll be a good girl. Please, Daddy. Please, I'll be so good. I need it, I need to cum, please..." He unclips the cuffs. Pulls the blindfold off. My eyes take a second to adjust and when they do, he's looking down at me with an expression that makes my stomach drop. Dark and certain and entirely in control of this situation and every situation he has ever been in.

Else. Something. Darker.

Everything was too fast, too dizzying, and too much for someone with such a small mind as Amada. Dylan smiled faintly, scornfully when he saw Amada's convulsive, apprehensive appearance. It's not that bad, and yet Dylan likes to exaggerate. For a moment, guilt and guilt welled up inside Dylan, as he realized he had mistreated Amada. However, those positive emotions were quickly destroyed by extreme thinking. Dylan leans more towards the evil side, so the darkness easily invades and swallows the other bright parts. Right now, Dylan's fight is on the wrong side.

Only it was in my head. Blue fades to blonde and Euphoria shatters into ice shards of Sokin’s eyes driving that stab harder, deeper than it’s ever been. ‘Who the fuck are these people….?’ Sokin. My subconscious asked. The accusation. Suspicion. Malice of me holding his woman like she’s mine. I’m the sickest piece of shit on the face of the fucking Isle! 40: Ayame - Lies of Omission