Geeky Goth Novels & Stories

Since, it's near summer, I've decided to wear it. Along with ripped black stocking, that I found on the down side of the cabinet. A goth might wear a crushed purple velvet skirt or vest, old-style high button shoes, or black work boots worn with fishnet stockings. So do I. Most goths wore only black or very dark clothes, and many dyed their hair black as well. Thankfully, my hair is naturally jet black that very suit for this gothic era. Begin to add light layers of goth accessories such as Victorian drape chokers, hats, skull bags, and watches.

I giggle and shake my head. Davina puts her philosophical face on. "No seriously, goth is not a style, it's a way of living, of thinking. I always hated bland mainstream things. People's quest for success and money, the extreme consumerism, I could throw up thinking about it. They never stop to see the beauty around them.. it can be gone like this". She snaps her fingers in front of me, making me jump. "If that makes me a freak, then fuck it. I see myself as a realist. In the Grotto I found people that have the same outlook on life and death as me. We can be ourselves there". "I just think some of the music is a bit.. to death positive. That it is romantic to die together and such.. isn't it

She asked nonchalantly, although, she was interested in doing anything but sit in the apartment another night. He again waved his hand. “It’s a Gothic Club, I suppose. The type of club where young adults act and live out the vampire lifestyle, you know the type I’m referring to, the music is loud; the drinks watered down, and everyone acts like something they’re not.” “I guess… I could check it out.” She added, heading towards the hall. “That is, if you don’t have anything for me to do.” There was a slight hint in her voice asking him to have nothing for her to do.

Kachi said. And they drove off toward whatever the hell waited ahead. * * * The sun had barely cracked through the clouds, casting a golden shimmer over the cracked highways as Gozie drove. The silence in the car was heavy but not uncomfortable. Everyone was thinking the same thing, this might be the day they find Nicholas. “I swear,” Kachi said suddenly, head leaning against the window, “if Nicholas turns out to be one of those underground DJs who faked his death to promote a mixtape, I’m swinging.”

My ass looks bomb as hell. For the first time in a very long time I feel confident about how I look. I grab a short,silky,black robe to put on over the underwear. Sexy but classy. I put on some watermelon lip balm and walk to the door. Here goes nothing.

And as I move toward him, he takes his eyes and heads to the ground in a low bow. I began to walk into another hallway with him behind me; the one that held my subjects. I hear the fast thud of Augustine's heartbeat, I also hear their heartbeats as well, and I can tell how many they are in the room ahead. My senses kick in. I twitch my nose and my golden eyes flare up in the dark hallway; I detest the smell of Aarde, it is the smell of the Karbouter, also known as the Goblin. I smell it first before the whiff of the Werewolves and vampires runs up my nostrils.

I kept knocking with no reply. “Geogre! I know you are in there!” I yelled, banging on the door. He didn’t answer me. “I am going to break the door open; step aside, Ario,” I said, moving back, and before I could kick it open, the door opened, revealing Geogre. I smiled widely. “How are you doing, old friend?” I asked, breathing out. Geogre is a warlock; he is thousands of years old, and he used to be Selene's lover before she dumped him.

It takes all of the self-control in me not to shove him back up to his feet and slam my lips on his. “I'm going to fuck your mouth.” I say. And the next second I thrust In, hitting the back of his throat. His gag fills the room and his eyes water. I do not fear the situation of someone hearing us, my room is soundproof. As a person in the Bratva, we keep our dealings very private and my house is definitely not safe for important discussions, not when Zorya and her stupid son live in the same house as me. “I like it rough. I'll take it easy.” I smirk at him, pulling it.

Always had—rebellion swarm in his blood. He was tall, a wolf-like Sabin, but that was where the similarities ended. While Sabin had brown hair, brown eyes, and a roughly hewn face, Gideon was pure punk, embracing the modern Goth look, throwing in a bit of grunge and mixing it all with movie-stars flair. The man even coloured his pale hair bright, metallic blue. Said he'd done it because it made his eyes pop. Of course, that was a lie. He'd probably crafted the look as a warning to humans—approach at your peril.

Love ‘em. “I do tats,” she’d said. Goth chick with a Daddy’s Girl Gone Bad vibe. Hair fifty shades of black. Bangs chopped with a razor. Big eyes rimmed with black. Skin whiter than rich kid coke. Dark blue smeared on her lips. Metal in her ears, nose, chin. Her small bright teeth chewing dollar store blue from her stubby nails.