Disturbing Imagery Novels & Stories

Roman sneers. One thing I’ve grown to loathe since escaping B-20 -- I have an incredibly vivid imagination. In this field of work, it’s a curse. Every time I see a new video posted on the dark web or get intel on a new enemy—the first thoughts that come to mind are all the depraved, sick things being done to these women and children. My mind tortures me with those images. And later, I’ll be plagued by them, except it’ll be my girl they’re hurting.

she whispered through gritted teeth, her voice barely more than a hiss. But the darkness was persuasive. It whispered to her, seductive and insidious, promising power and vengeance. Images flashed before her eyes – Visha's beheading, blood pooling on the ground, the terror in the eyes of those who witnessed it. Instead of feeling revulsion, she felt a sick thrill. The sight of blood excited her, and the thought of causing more chaos made her pulse race. Her mind raced with a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts. She saw flashes of violence, images of destruction, a world consumed by chaos. It was as if she were witnessing the birth of a monstrous entity, a dark reflection of her own soul.

There's a merciless storm within me, thrashing against the walls of my emotions. Every image from earlier cuts through me, a relentless assault on my senses. It's as if the world has taken on a malevolent hue, with every sight and sound a cruel reminder of the torment I'm enduring. The scene replays in my mind—their intimacy, their connection. He thrusts into her, and her moans pierce the air like a blade to my heart.

He stutters, stumbling over his own anxiety before he looks to his hands and nods. “It woke me in the middle of the night. It started with pain, pain in my chest. This usually means someone’s going through heartbreak. And t first I thought perhaps it was someone here in the pack but then the torrent of images started to take me under their spell. Images of Tabitha. Happy, sad, angry. It was the night of the fire, the night you took their pack. I thought perhaps it was her dying, that I was living her life through the last moments. Remember the things she was. But they continue after that day. And have been happening everyday since. The same images, the same pain. Everything playing on a loop

A flood of disturbing images invaded her mind without warning. Blood. Severed limbs. Broken bodies. Endless screams. The horrifying visions flashed before her eyes one after another, causing her breathing to become uneven. Her psychic ability, which had remained dormant for a long time, had suddenly activated on its own. "Danger..." she muttered under her breath. Her eyes remained fixed on the opening doorway. Thick fog and smoke poured from within the room, completely obscuring whatever lay beyond. No one could see more than a few feet inside. Ignoring the throbbing pain in her skull, Ivy attempted to push her psychic senses further into the room.

I’m trapped within myself, a spectacle of destruction that I can’t stop. My mind shatters, fragments scatter like shards of glass, everything distorts. The colors around me vibrate in unreal tones, sounds become too loud, deafening, and I no longer know what’s real. My spine seems to snap in two, a brutal crack echoing down my back, and then I feel something tear through the skin on my back. It’s as if something is being born, something strange and monstrous.

It radiated warmth, drawing her focus as it thrummed with the rhythm of her heartbeat. In the flickering chaos, flashes of her past danced like fireflies in the darkness—visceral images flickered across her vision, drawing her attention. The fortress fire roared to life, engulfing everything in flames, the cries of her enemies echoing in her ears, burning a mark on her conscience that would forever haunt her. Each memory ignited her fear of failure, the lingering shadows of her past choices tugging at the corners of her resolve.

My wrist still burned where he’d gripped me, my mind replaying the flicker in his eyes. Wolves. But—they don't exist. Yeah. I mean, If they did then I should've probably had known by now. It's just my dumb imaginations trying to play one of it's many bullshit on me. “Fuck," I cursed aloud. "This is getting crazy. I need to do something about this images before I lose it completely,” I whispered quietly, running a shaky hand through my hair. “Now that’s my favorite word.” I steeled up. My head snapped to the side.

The cold could not be denied. The presence of fear could not be denied. Estelle's body froze in a horror that words could not express. A cacophony of memories clashed in her mind. All future memories spun in a dizzying whirl. They came in flashes of light, piercing and filling every corner of Estelle's mind. Chaos was created. A tumultuous uproar echoed. Amidst the chaos, distorted voices began to emerge—whispers that could not be recognised, followed by heart-wrenching cries that filled the empty space within Estelle. It pulled Estelle deeper into the vortex of uncertainty.

How can he do that we wherever he looks at somewhere, he can remember and see what he and the other two do there. He can see their smiling image, their voices, their laughter. He was trapped in an illusion- soon, the images in front of him turned bloody. His heart thumped painfully in his chest while looking at it. He knew it was just an illusion created by his anxious mind, but seeing them in the center of the room, tied up back-to-back, with Althea’s mouth and lips bleeding, and with Kai’s cries, he lost it. Screaming curses towards the mirage, he picked up a vase where flowers were just put, then throwed it towards where the images where showing.