Goth Nerd Novels & Stories

And they’re surprised that the students are going postal? Apparently, a group of Goth kids was going to commit a campus rampage. It’s always the effing Goth kids. Just once, can’t it be a group of cheerleaders, damn it? The ringleader of this particular group of Goths is a kid named Derek Johnson. A picture of the douche is included. Typical angsty, emo, Goth kid. Eyeliner. Hair dyed black as a raven. Skin paler than Sean Patrick Flannery in Powder. Hot Topic wardrobe with depressingly deep quotes from Edgar Allan Poe. Earrings. Nose rings. Lip rings. Chin rings. Probably rings in places I don’t even want to think about. An overall attitude and appearance that screams, “I am a tragically uni

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.

And until he had news (a clue, the jerk) I wouldn't hear anything. I reached out to him, felt the connection between us, but that was all I felt. He was either too far away or-damn it, Syd, stop that. Stop. That. Right. Now. The shower was hot and immediate and helped with some of the redness and puffies I always got from crying. At least, it made the rest of me pink so I matched. I dressed in black jeans and a T-shirt with a pentagram screen printed in silver. The ideal apparel for Blood's send-off. I even used some of the black eye liner Pain had given me for my birthday. My reflection was kind of badass. Meet Syd, el Gotho.

How could he suggest something like that just when he just went through a mess? The Seer's face was twisted in anger as he leaned in close to Sage, his eyes burning with quiet rage. “You're still weak,” the Seer growled, pointing a gnarled finger at Sage. “Still, your body is a mess, and your consciousness is solidly incommunicable from fact. And yet, you speak of finding Ursula? Do you understand what you're saying, boy? Ursula isn’t some rogue witch hiding in the woods, she’s an ancient force, bound by wrath and vengeance.”

"No, no, you knew nothing!" Ace moved out of his way, still shouting at the top of his lungs. "You think you could hide it forever but I know you! I mean, it makes so much sense. The most popular jock in school who is totally homophobic going out with the not yet out of the closet pretty nerd boy! It's mind-blowing!" "No, I'm not a nerd! And this isn't a W*****d high school book!" Marcos snapped with a hand on his waist, even though there was a smile on his face. "I'm just taking him to the hospital for sometime."

I hate that he orders the death of so many people and doesn’t ever feel an ounce of guilt over it. I hate what he did to Valen, for solars, that he stripped away his freewill. I hate that he let his Kinduri go into my mind. I hate Cyrillius, to the point that hate isn’t a strong enough word. I gather Neron around me. I tell it to form little, sharp spikes. Hundreds of them. They float in the air, poised and ready. “Wake up,” I say harshly. I kick his bedframe to make sure he jolts awake.

“A week. Maybe more. He’s gone off the grid, and we’ve been searching for him ever since. He’s a fucking liability right now.” Nero exchanges a look with me and Orion, his jaw clenched. “A liability? What the fuck does that mean?” Orion lets out a frustrated sigh. “This just keeps getting better.” “It means my son’s headed in a direction that’s going to get him killed if he doesn’t get his head out of his ass,” Arkyn spits, his anger evident. “He’s obsessed with building power, amassing an army. He’s only eighteen, but he thinks he’s invincible because of his bloodline. Fenriz and Kai … he thinks he’s some kind of god because of who his grandfathers were.”

"Why should I help you? What’s in it for me?" "Aside from the fact that it'll be the best sixty seconds of your pathetic life? Nothing." I reached out, my fingers trembling as I grabbed the rough fabric of his hoodie. "Just shut up and let me get this over with." "You look like you're about to vomit," he whispered, his voice dropping to a dangerous vibration. "Is the Ice Queen actually scared of a nerd?" "I’m disgusted, Elias. There’s a difference." "Then show me," he challenged. "Show me how much you hate it."

Then I decided on a pair of black knee-length boots. I curled my hair and pulled it all to one side and braided one piece on the top so it was like a crown. I walked downstairs just as there was a knock on the door. "Hey,” he said, smiling, leaning against the doorframe. “Hi.” I smiled back. Everyone saw a bad boy or a player or whatever they wanted to classify him as but really he was nothing but a big dork. A cute one at that, but still a dork. I guess that’s why they always say the nerd gets on so well with the player.

I dropped my gaze nonetheless, staring holes into my black boots. I didn’t recognise any of the students sat in the same row as me. I could place them into their stereotypical categories immediately: goth, emo, jock, nerd. I could imagine why there were at the back beside me, too: loners and pranksters, either side-lined from the rest of the student body or there, as I was, as a latecomer.