Romans & histoires Gaslight

It was a horrific sight because these were the wealthy guests who had been dancing just an hour ago, but now they were blinded by the neurotoxin gas and they were reaching out with bloody hands and screaming for help that nobody was going to give them. One man in a torn suit grabbed my dress and begged me to tell him where the exit was but his eyes were milky and vacant and I had to push him away because we didn't have any time to stop for strangers. "Just keep moving toward the shore and don't look at them, Alessia, because if we get caught in this crowd we’re never going to get to the water before the secondary explosions start," Lucien muttered as he leaned more of his weight on me and I

The air inside the luxury cabin of the Gulfstream jet was deadly, suffocating, and entirely thin. The bitter, acrid stench of liquid silver toxin radiating from the glass cylinder in Elder Corvin’s hand clashed violently with the explosive, volatile aura of wild jasmine and smoke pouring from Clara’s veins.

I saw myself holding his hand but I just could not hear what I was saying to him no matter how hard I tried. Then I heard another voice again. This time it was coming from in front of me. The voice was that of a woman's and each word echoed as she spoke. I looked at her and she had on a translucent blue dress, she had nothing underneath and everything was visible to the eyes. Her hair was black and wavy, and her skin was pale and milky. What caught my attention the most was the colour of her eyes, they were grey like mine but they shined like a full moon.

CHAPTER 137: THE GHOST OF THE RUST-DISTRICT The white light of the "Genesis Engine" wasn't just blind; it erased. It was a sterile, clinical glare that stripped away the scent of diesel, the humidity of the harbor, and the heavy, metallic tang of the "Weeping Source." For a terrifying moment, there was no Lagos. There was no mud. There was only the high-frequency hum of a trillion data points being rewritten by the woman who owned my face.

"Those? Those are yours, Emil. Or maybe you planted them there yourself. You’ve clearly lost your mind. You’re so desperate to be a victim that you're making things up now." The gaslighting was so effortless it made my stomach turn. I looked from the red lace to his cold, handsome face. He was telling me I was crazy while the evidence was right in my hand. "Fuck you, Damian!" The words were out before I could think. I stepped forward, fueled by a sudden, white-hot burst of adrenaline, and swung my hand as hard as I could. The slap echoed through the silent bedroom like a gunshot. My palm stung, and his head snapped to the side.

**The Globe's Message** Mira sat in the dimly lit room, the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the sheer curtains, casting gentle, golden shadows that danced lazily across the walls. She was perched anxiously on the edge of a plush armchair, its fabric soft and inviting, yet now more uncomfortable than ever as she absorbed the sight of her daughter, Aria. There, on the bed, Aria lay motionless, her face serene yet ghostly pale, a stark contrast to the vibrant colors of the quilt beneath her. Her dark hair spread across the pillow like a shadowy halo, framing her delicate features, and Mira’s heart ached with worry, a tidal wave of anxiety crashing inside her chest.

My hands couldn't stop trembling, and the moisture in my palm made my grip slippery. I tightened my grip, trying to still my tremors. My eyes darted up to the gamma. He was focused on the road and I kept glancing at him every few seconds, searching for any sign of danger. He turned on the radio, filling the car with the sound of the six-p.m World News, where the anchor headlined financial reports and anticipation of the full moon. Mom made me lean my head on her shoulder. I still didn't trust the gamma, but I preferred him over the cruel and heartless beta.

What did that even mean? “I have no idea what you're getting at,”she said to the young girl.”What are you speaking of?” “She has lived in the shadows for a long time,watching and waiting for you.” “You’re not making any sense,”Beth replied,agitation rising in her voice. “Have you not felt her Beth?Here in your home?She watches you,growing stronger every day,she wants your life and she will end it when she’s ready.” Now Beth was getting mad.Were hallucinations supposed to be this annoying?

I put on baby pink silk pajamas with spaghetti straps and shorts on. I go to the kitchen where the bag of my medicines was. I fill a glass full of water and open the bottle. No more than two. I recite in my mind again and again. If I don't eat three I will have nightmares but I need something to knock me out. I want to have a dreamless sleep. But I can't do this to myself. YOU NEED SLEEP VICTORIA! The voice in my head says. But I can't take two. THEN GOOD LUCK RELIVING THOSE MEMORIES!