Diary Of An Oxygen Thief Novels & Stories

I can only conclude because this is not written in the diary either. "Does Duna actually know what a diary is?" I complained. After storing the ID Card and mercenary ID in the drawer, I took some packets of cookies from the cupboard and read the diary again. If I look again, the first few pages have been torn. Maybe Duna used to write a diary, but suddenly made this book into a notebook. Starting from the Xenobeast category, mercenary system, base system, to how to use guns and laser swords. January 27, 3043

One biting into my neck with his large canines as he pumped into me. I pressed my thighs together tighter and cursed at myself. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Pretty Bird,” Thayer growled, “if you don’t stop that, I’m going to eatyoufor breakfast.” Cheeks flushing harder, I cursed at myself for being so fucking embarrassing and desperately tried to calm myself. This wasnothow I’d expected this conversation to go, but I couldn’t help it. I had fantasized about them for far too long. “Do you guys have my diary?” I asked, staring at the granite tabletop.

XIENNE Dear Diary, Now I already have a plan on how will I kill Ace. Though my plan would be so hard to make it happen successfully I know it would be all worth it. I trust myself. I will seduce him and get his trust and attention then I will do my dirty little plan. Thinking of it gives me a huge excitement. Surely, killing him will give to me great satisfaction. But for now, I need to do my first step. It is befriending them all to earn their trust in me. I will play good and kind just like I was before. A good girl. I don’t care if they will abuse my kindness again, the most important thing is making them all stupid and then killing them all. No one dared to be good at me from them, and t

Abigail's room, the laundry room, the balcony, he searched everywhere, but there was no sign of Flavia. Gladwin tried to calm himself down. He searched for his phone and intended to call Flavia. His phone must be on the nightstand, where Flavia usually placed it after charging. Sure enough, his phone was there. Right on top of an old diary that Gladwin recognized. The diary was covered in leather with the initials "F.Q" carved on it, specially made by a craftsman acquaintance of his. The paper inside was also custom-made at his friend's printing press, featuring butterfly illustrations with the initials "F.Q" beautifully drawn in the bottom right corner. Gladwin believed there was no other d

Moving slowly, I slid my hand under my pillow and pulled out the old leather-bound diary. The weight of the book in my hands felt heavy, almost as if it were pulsing with dark secrets. I slipped out of bed, careful not to make a sound, and crept toward the bathroom. Once inside, I locked the door behind me and leaned against it, breathing heavily. The only light came from the dim bulb overhead. It was casting a soft glow over the room. I placed the diary on the bathroom sink. My fingers brushed over its worn cover. That strange symbol embossed on the front, a triangle with three circles inside, seemed to mock me.

I wonder he has his ass fucked or not. There were even a few diaries. I picked up one and hear I found something extremely useful. It had the details of all the murders he had done with the name and accomodation of the victim. Damon should have never stored it but here he did it and now I can torture him with this. I left the place taking the diary too running down the pipe and jumping off the boundary wall....

Aubrianne gently placed the necklace down, opened the small black suede case, and saw five small vials of a greenish liquid and the diary her mom mentioned. She pulled the small diary out and flipped through some pages casually, and the picture popped out. There he was. Or should I say there they were together, looking like a happy couple? Mr. Thornton and my Mom. Aubrianne felt horrible. How could she be so angry at her deceased mother? She was ashamed. But she was through the roof with the anger of her mother's selfish ways while on this earth. She was also grappling with the fact that she was a Hybrid if her mother was to be believed, and Aubrianne did not know what to think.

Her thighs trembled, the diary sliding to the floor, pages open and smeared with shaky ink. When she could finally breathe, she pulled the toy out, her body still quivering. She grabbed the diary with trembling hands, slammed it shut, and shoved it into her bag. “Never again,” she whispered to herself, cheeks burning. But she knew she was lying. --- The next afternoon, she sat in Professor Hayes’s office for her private session. The room smelled faintly of coffee and old books, his desk stacked with papers. He leaned against it while explaining a passage from Shakespeare, his deep voice filling the quiet space.

◆◆◆ Chapter 2 ◆◆◆ I spent the entire weekend hiding in my apartment, ignoring texts from classmates who suddenly found me fascinating for all the wrong reasons. The humiliation replayed on loop as my own words, my deepest, most depraved fantasies, were read aloud in front of everyone while Darian Rho watched with those unreadable dark eyes that seemed to strip me bare without ever touching me. Monday morning, I discovered my diary was missing. Tuesday afternoon, the first text arrived from an unknown number: “Page 23. The elevator fantasy. Creative use of the emergency stop button.”