Dark Novels & Stories

A dark brown, expensive casket sat in front them as the rain hit it. Truly, it was a depressing day. Today was the funeral, of course. Bonnie sat next to Lorenzo, holding his hand tightly. She looked beautiful. Her black dress hugged her curves in the right way. Her face was clear of any makeup and her curly hair was in a tight bun. Black pump shoes covered her small feet as they were crossed over each other. Her grey eyes were staring ahead as she tried to listen to John but all she could think about was the heartbreak Lorenzo is going through.

Getting closer with every second. Fuck!

Darkness. Everything went black.

nothing. Darkness consumed me.

DARK SIXTY EIGHT: RECALLING THE HISTORY Third person's POV: "L-luca, p-please. Get me o-out of here, p-please." Sobbed Blake in despair, his lips quivering in fear. The shivers didn't stop to crawl on his skin, as the thought of not getting out there forever started to eat his soul. He crawled backwards until a cold wall hit his back, as the sound of chains echoed around the dark room.

"Why would you.. " he asked but I wasn't listening anymore. I snatched his phone from Aunt Gracy but was met with password I wanted to hand it over to him to press his password but he beat me to it by telling me "The password is kejogmet" "okay" I said pressing the password and it unlocked though in my mind, I was surprised. I can remember overhearing NataliesN conversation with Jeanette and Eleanor when Natalie complained Kendall wont tell her his phone's password.

,sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi; mso-fareast-language:EN-US;} Darkness. Deep, cold, unending darkness surrounds me, am I dead? Am I alive? I cannot tell, my senses are completely useless here. As I wait, a small light spot begins to appear, as I watch it, it becomes larger and then starts to form a shape. I feel safe, somehow, I know that whatever it is, it means me no harm.

I compliment her and she doesn't say a word which means she's flushing. We don't talk much and say good night before we go to sleep. Since I'm in Zurich we started calling each other every night before we sleep. Ashley said she became those nightmares since she's back at home. She sees always the same. Some women wearing all black in a dark room and telling her to go away from 'him'. She still doesn't know who this women is or she means. I thought of a ritual with her to forget her dream and now it became something important. It really helps her to forget about the nightmares and it even helps me to not miss her that much.

Because you will only see three colours on the entire sheet of this unit. The black, grey, and chocolate colours that have no life indicate sadness. Every curtain is grey; the sofas, chairs, and tables are chocolate; and the appliances are black. The unit is also very dark; maybe that's normal if you think about it because the sun has set and the sky is dark. Only the light of the moon serves as the light of the world. Why does it seem so sad here? But now that the world has technology, there is a light bulb that serves as light in homes, and there is also a light bulb here, but you can still see the sadness in the light bulb, a

Slowly—too slowly, with a reluctant dread—I looked up. Damian Blackwood stood before my desk, a towering, imposing figure silhouetted against the waning light from the windows. He was silent, utterly unreadable, a statue carved from granite and ice. His suit was black, tailored to perfection, the fabric a rich, almost inky void against the pale office walls. His tie was loosened just enough at the collar to hint at something dangerous, untamed, beneath the impeccably controlled surface. But it was his eyes that made my stomach clench, tightening into a knot of apprehension—cold, sharp, glinting like storm-polished obsidian, reflecting the last of the office lights with an almost predatory in