Desperation In Death Novels & Stories

“Nothing is more important than family, Ian. Nothing beats family.” I groaned inwardly. I was more than aware of the fact that the purpose of Desire’s whole act was for her to get enough talking time with me. Even with nearly ten years below me, she took pains to lecture me on whatever she sincerely felt I needed to know. And I could bet there was a lot I needed to know swimming about in her head, right now. “Are you set?” I asked, getting up. “Sure.” “Ian, who’s the lady?” She asked, immediately we stepped outside the house.

“Well, you should know. Because these are the kinds of choices that are made in my lifestyle. There’s betrayal and death or survival and loyalty. Liya frowned, still trying to understand what Aldo had just said when a shot rang, and the huge man’s lifeless body fell forward, collapsing on the floor with the chair. “I made my choice,” Aldo said coldly. Liya attempted to scream and run away, but Aldo quickly held her back, covering her mouth. “There are no second chances or forgiveness in this life.” Liya felt her insides twist. She gagged. She wanted to throw up but she seemed to be frozen in place as she watched the blood splurging from the man’s body.

“If we walk in there like this, we won’t make it ten steps.” I took a step forward anyway. “Zanny,” he warned. “I see it,” I said, my eyes still fixed on the territory ahead. “I know what this is.” “Then act like it.” “I am.” He grabbed my arm before I could take another step, his grip firm but not painful. “This isn’t courage,” he said, turning me to face him again. “This is desperation.” “Same thing,” I shot back. “No,” he said, his voice dropping dangerously low. “Courage keeps you alive. Desperation gets you killed.”

Even in death, her presence still resonated within me, a haunting reminder of all that could never be. In the depths of my desperation, a desperate solution emerged. The Shadows. I was willing to sacrifice anything, anyone, to save Roxy. The price, no matter how steep, was irrelevant. My desperation had reached a fever pitch, and I was resolute: I would not lose Roxy today.

He closed the door gently, too gently, and I watched him from the arch of the doorway, unseen. For a man who could die in a dozen ways over the next week, he was oddly reckless. Or perhaps the recklessness belonged to something else: desperation. That is a different animal entirely. Desperation will make a practiced liar turn saint and a saint turn traitor. It will press your face to the glass until you cannot see your reflection anymore. I stepped forward, slow, and let my presence make the air heavier. He smelled of antiseptic and the slow iron of dried blood, and when he turned and saw me, his face shuttered in a way that could have been careful or guilty or both.

Time to act, not just watch my own death. Damien’s gaze slashed toward Yadiel's face, a volatile fusion of glowing rage and stark disbelief. Desperation clawed at Damien’s throat, a useless plea for mercy trembling on his lips, as he now found himself bargaining with death's shadow, pleading for a sliver of life he seemed no longer entitled to.

Yes, indeed, I would never be able to defeat that man, I wouldn't even accept it if that disgusting man touched my body, and I would probably spend the rest of my life cleaning up his dirty traces. But I was desperate. Desperate for Nicholas de Sanctis, who always did things I could never guess, desperate for the death he had to take. I despaired at the burning gas station, imagining the soulless corpse that died again in front of me. It made me jump to another time. Where soulless eyes were looking at me, Pascha's bloodied hand held a gun. Wiping it with a napkin and chuckling sarcastically with a face full of pride at having taken an innocent life.

Bee swarming together on someone's face, spiders spinning webs in the kitchen, Snakes bulging as they swallow prey whole. But nothing works. My brain keeps going back to the moment I saw his face, back to the sheer power of his presence and beauty. A beauty that even now makes me want to scream. I hear his voice in my head. I feel the force of his longing. “Let me in.” The desperation... Oh God, the desperation. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s the desperation one must feel when they know they’re dying and clinging to their last breath. Does he want me that badly? Does he want me so bad he’s dying because

A pure heart, traveling in the direction of the light. In between bites of his steak, Dr. Black muttered something to himself "And that is all there is to it. Despair is the polar opposite of hope. It's a chaotic and complex. As a result of not knowing where you'll finish up, despair consumes everything else, including love, hate, and all other emotions. Even you will not be able to anticipate when you will be in despair. Only the unpredictability of despair may rescue you from a bleak outlook on the future." He then nibbled on a piece of the flesh. He gently chewed the meat before swallowing it. Dr. Black then flashed another smile. "That's why I love watching individuals in a state of mis

He slowly pushed a bit of fluid out before aiming straight at my thigh. "Don't rush it, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath hot and foul on my cheek. "One shot, and you'll find out what real thrill feels like..." Despair. Crushing, endless despair. Like cold ocean water drowning me, invading every breath and inch of me. I shut my eyes. If I couldn't get revenge, at least I could take control of how it ended. Using what little strength the drugs hadn't taken, I clamped my jaws shut and bit hard on my tongue. I'd rather die by my own teeth than be defiled by these pigs.