Everything That Kills Me Novels & Stories

“You're very annoying, why are you acting like a 4 year old?” “Why are you acting like my dead grandma?” he counters, making me break the pace of my stride. I shake my head, and he goes on talking. I listen to him tell me about how I murdered more than fifty people mercilessly and thats when it hits me, I actually killed me. I have invariably been against turmoil of any form but now I'm practising it in its worst form. I have become everything I hate and there's no going back now. A lamp grows in my throat and I swallow it, unable to cry again, I won't cry ever.

"I'll systematically destroy everything you've ever loved. Everyone you cherish. Just to prove conclusively that I can." I scream one final time, my voice raw and broken, ripping from my ravaged throat like something dying a torturous death. And then—everything suddenly goes blindingly white.

I prayed silently, the warm tears streaming down my face. I'm so tired of losing people close to me. I always benefited from them, but they've never benefited from me. I am so cursed! I should probably hang myself to death after today. I am so unwanted after all! I'm pretty sure it was one of the reasons my mother wasn't close to me. I killed my father. I killed my dog. I killed my fucking best friend and now my savior too is dying. "No, please Killian." I felt my nostrils breathless, filled with mucus, but I couldn't help but shed more tears.

I scream at the pure amount of pain that courses through my whole being. I have to do something this white mass is going to kill. Me.

I was wrong “ Let me go” She shouted as I carried her with me. I held her tight that she could not move for a moment “ I want to kill her. She killed my son. I want her dead” She kept on shouting that I had to hold her with one hand and keep my other hand on her mouth “ Let me go” she kept of producing muffled sounds but I knew what she was talking about

“Why are we having this conversation again? When I said I would rather die in that burning building than be with you, I meant it. I want nothing to do with you. I begged Theo to kill you, and he promised me he would. So, fuck off.” “You think he’s going to kill me?” Obnoxious arrogance was in his voice. “Let’s not forget I kill people for a living, while he sits on his ass and orders people around. He’s been wasting his time picking off my guys one by one like I’m stupid enough to tell any of them where I am. The guy is a fucking moron.” “The only moron here is me—for ever believing a word out of your goddamn mouth.” “When I said I loved you, I meant it.”

What kind of sweet romance is this? Looking at the criticisms, I smiled widely. Under the murderous gaze of the invigilator, I walked over to Timothy and said, "Your parents died in the hands of Rachel's family. Don't you want revenge?" Looking at Timothy's conflicted gaze, I urged him further by whispering in his ear. "Don't you want to avenge your parents? Or did you think that your grandmother would be able to come out of the drug trial alive?" Then, I pointed to the poison-laced test papers.

It all came back, slamming into my soul, knocking me down, and pushing me under. He said I am not a monster...But I am. I made him reach here. This all is because of me. I ruin everything I touch. It's not a curse, no, it's me. It's who I am. My truth. I am a monster...because whoever pulled the trigger, is not the killer. No. I...I killed him. I killed my own brother...my own flesh and blood.

"In one life, you destroyed me. In this one, you destroyed yourself. The dream you are mentioning is the hell I went through, but in this life, I won't." I leaned in, whispering so only he could hear. "Beth didn't just lie to you. She was the mirror you deserved. And now, you will spend the rest of your immortal life in the dark, remembering the queen you thought you could cage." I turned my back on him. I didn't burn him. I didn't kill him. Sometimes being forgotten is the best revenge for people who are eager to be seen and to be worshipped by others. Caspian met me at the altar, his hand extended. The High Priest of the Ancients stepped forward, the obsidian daggers gleaming.

The bond flared, then snapped like glass shattering, leaving only hollow silence in its wake. Her body crumpled, her eyes wide and wet, saying my name like a plea that would never be answered. And I hated myself. Gods, I hated myself. I stood there for a moment, breathing hard, staring at the girl fate had cursed me with. My mate. My kill. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, so quietly the wind almost stole it. Then I turned and walked into the shadows, leaving her to bleed out in the snow, convincing myself it was mercy. Convincing myself it was duty. But deep down, I knew I’d just doomed us both.