Devastating Beauty Novels & Stories

Unconvincing. The voice laughed softly. "You're lying." And the worst part? It was right. The doors shook again. "AVA!" Vivienne. Still trying. Still fighting to reach me. The realization grounded me. Just enough. I looked away from Daniel's photograph. Away from the memories. Away from the temptation. "What do you want from me?" Silence. Then— The photographs vanished. Every single one. The walls returned to normal. Only Daniel's image remained. Watching me.

She’s beautiful. She’s not beautiful in the way a person is supposed to be beautiful, though. She’s beautiful like a tsunami. Like a cold snap. Like the sort of forest fire that kills every living thing on a swath of land. Her features are as chiseled as the mountains, eyes gleaming like dying stars. The longer she smiles, the more stretched and unnatural it seems, the more uncanny. She’s so beautiful it’s almost become ugliness. She’s so beautiful she hurts to look at.

He is not going to find the answer on my face. I noted six weeks ago, the night she looked up at me across a dinner table and delivered the specific sentence that has made me hate her ever since, that she was beautiful. Beautiful is not even the adequate word. It is a placeholder for something I lack the inclination to articulate further. The champagne and the mascara and the ruined dress do not change this, which I find genuinely irritating. Beauty in a woman I despise is its own particular inconvenience, because it only intensifies the hatred rather than diluting it. It gives the hatred something to work against.

I informed without any comment on his son as I didn’t want my head to roam anywhere around him or the smile I had right now at my face would vanish away as if it didn’t belong there. “So are you saying that my son’s beauty is also makes you dizzy. If that’s the case then I can forgive for the blasphemy you just did few minutes ago.” She gave me the chance to overcome my stance but I didn’t fall for that. “No, he doesn’t. But his beauty is like a darkness in the sky without any presence of moon and stars. He is scary and that’s his beauty.” I stated the moment his eyes came in front of my mind as the metaphor spontaneously came to mind. It was darkness that was part of his existence.

Just because I didn't have the lake of fire didn't mean I couldn't punish the sinners. And when she was roasted to my heart’s content, I pulled her back, watched as she fell on her back, and took in the creation of my hand. “Ooooooh!” Her face was bright red and badly swollen. Rivers of blood were bubbling as they poured and steamed all over from the opened blood vessels. But what made me want to do a little shuffle dance was the sheets of skin sloughing off her skin, the blackened chunks of the remains of her once perfect face hitting the floor and continuing to smolder from the heat. Her once perfect face was now unrecognizable, beautifully disfigured.

"Why? Why is this happening? I was reborn. I got everything I wanted. So, why did it still end like this?" I froze for a second. I never expected that Janet had been reborn, too. No wonder she had been so desperate in this life, so determined to chase everything she wanted. However, the darkness inside her had already sealed her fate. Watching as the officers forced her down and restrained her completely, I gave a small shrug and answered lightly, "Maybe you can figure that out in prison." The ambulances arrived quickly and carried the two injured people away. They survived. However, both of them had been blinded by shattered glass, and their faces were severely disfigured. What Janet had do

Anything to keep me distracted from my sexual needs. In my rush, I bump into someone. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you” I look up to find the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m not even exaggerating. She has the type of beauty that would befit a goddess. The type that song writers sing and write about. She sneers at me. “Watch where you’re going you slut” And then the image I had of her crashes down in burning flames. Why is it that most beautiful and hot people are attractive until they open their fucking mouths? Then nothing except poison comes out.

A flush marks my skin where his hands, his mouth, have laid claim. I am magnificent. Not with a smooth, perfect beauty, but with a fatal beauty, marked by passion and storm. A beauty that has been taken, desired with a force bordering on destruction. I love this image. I love the power I see in my own gaze, a power that managed to provoke a hurricane in the most controlled man I know. He tried to break me, yet here I stand, more alive and radiant than ever.

I knew exactly who he was. Death never knocks, and neither does the devil. He stood impossibly tall. Muscles rippled beneath his black shirt, barely containing the brutality and menace coiled within. His aura was suffocating, pulling the air from my lungs as if the very world bent around him. Handsome—no, that was an understatement. He was beautiful in the most wicked, sinful way, a face sculpted from temptation itself. The kind of beauty that led men to ruin and souls to damnation.

The sun rose like a dying ember — pale, uncertain, its light fractured by the smoke of a world still clawing its way back from ruin. The air trembled with the aftershocks of creation; the heavens still bore the scars of their struggle. Where dawn should have been gold and gentle, it came instead in broken colors — a bleeding horizon of ash and silver, of beauty born from devastation.