Fyodor Dostoevsky The Possessed Novels & Stories

It calmed him and he faced the entity again. “We’re ready,” he said. Nocturne gripped his hand again. “We are ready to start,” he confirmed. The entity held up his hand and Leo’s eyes closed against his will. He felt his body fade into nothing. *** Leo tapped his finger on his keyboard with deep irritation. Despite his university degree in English Literature, he was struggling to compose the next chapter. He hoped with all his heart that the book he was working on would be his magnum opus for two reasons.

"And what if you are?" His lips curved. Dark. Dangerous. "Then you should pray, Elena Rossi. Because the devil does not let go of what belongs to him." He turned and walked away. I stood there frozen, realizing I had walked into a cage made of gold and glass. And the devil held the only key.

Especially since Ella had just given birth to twin babies, and her daughter, Rosie, was born as a normal human. This is where the role of the unknown man I met three days ago comes in... I thought I was the most proficient in making others angry, but it turns out there was still someone who could surpass me. Konstantin Alexei Dostoevskija even sounded foolish when Alice introduced us the first time. Dostov is the one who turned me into a Leech, even though he had already introduced himself as the clan leader and Alice's brother, I still couldn't trust his words when I saw his young face and appearance that looked like a college student. Only when Alice nodded coldly to confirm his words coul

he said, changing the god’s expression. “What’s with you? You just don’t look only different. But the way you also talk. It’s far from before. Is it an effect of staying in the mortal realm for so long?” “What you said is possible. But I don’t know what you are talking about. Nothing’s changed in me.” “So, what causes the possession to happen?” the god asked, reminding him of the main reason he was there. “Prepare yourself. It may surprise you. Everyone is wrong, thinking it was just a minor problem. Demons did the possessions.”

It’s what we’ve been doing for God knows how long and he's quitting it now? Bull shit. “This possession shit is denying you of fun.” I quip, bidding a waitress that just passed by. The whole waitresses and waiters in the room are stripped bare. Their bronzed skin is on full display while the strippers are in their skimpy skirts and bare-chested. Women and men can pick any one of their choices and fuck them right away. That’s one thing about our world. People act the way I deem fit. “You don’t get it. When you mistakenly find that person you’ve a visceral feeling for, you’ll want to own her. Possess her and keep her to yourself.” Stalin says as the waitress hands me another glass of whiskey.

If I could find this, it would be the break in my career. Daniel probably doubted me and my ability, that is why he didn’t want me to go after the cartel but I would prove him wrong I pushed away from the desk, suddenly lightheaded. I had been feeling dizzy and sick all week because I wasn’t resting. "Coffee would fix it. Coffee always fixed it. But the second I poured it, the smell hit me like a slap and I suddenly felt uneasy. My stomach clenched violently. I bolted for the bathroom, barely making it before I was on my knees, clutching the toilet, retching until my throat burned

And a carefree, warmth-filled woman who didn’t even realize she was changing everything around her just by existing. He wanted to own the space she walked into. She wanted to breathe inside it. He saw love as possession. She saw love as freedom. And neither of them knew yet — They were about to become each other’s greatest weakness. Author’s Note Hi readers 🤍 His Possession, Her Freedom is my second novel and a deeper step into my writing journey. This story comes entirely from my own imagination, shaped by emotions, contrasts, and the delicate line between possession and freedom in love. It explores power, vulnerability, control, warmth, and what happens when two completely different emoti

What if I hesitated and everything crumbled? Why me? Why does it always have to be me? I hate him. I hate him so much. All the designers and shopping was because of this. I was beginning to think that Alex had changed and wanted me to look good. Little did I know that the devil himself became worse. The thought of his cold eyes flashes through my head. I hated the way he controlled me, dangling my mother’s life. He was indeed a monster. A man who thrived on power. “I wish you death, Alex,” I whispered to myself. If I had the chance, I would end him the way he ends others. He deserves every pain in the world.

My heart is pounding, lungs tight with fear. “Anna, talk to me. What’s wrong, princess?” he says, voice soft but thick with concern as he takes a cautious step forward. I wrap my arms around my knees, curl into myself, and drop my head. I can’t take another night like this. My body trembles, waiting for the blow. Waiting for pain. I squeeze my eyes shut and beg in silence for him not to come closer. Seconds pass. Then more. The silence stretches and I finally lift my head. Festar hasn’t moved. But his face…God, his face..it’s pure devastation. He looks haunted. Not angry. Not predatory.

I asked, trying to use some words to get his guards down because there was no way I could tackle him with my physical strength. "Hmm, true, but...you know what I think?" He asked, leaning in closer. I continue to gawk up at him in horror. I wish this were a nightmare, but the burn on my palm felt too real. "I think once something becomes his possession, he doesn't like anyone touching it, let alone looking at it. It's only he who could discard it. So you right now,...you are his dearest possession and my greatest revenge." I stared at him in shock. My body began to tremble in fear despite my attempt to keep myself steady. He seemed to know Sergei more than I did.