Gothic I Novels & Stories

He drove with purpose, and I, like a phantom shadow, drifted along in his wake. I followed him as he made his rounds in a department store, buying things he had never once considered buying for me. It wasn't hard to see the distinction between love and indifference. My ghostly form seemed to grow heavier with every step, weighted down by the bitterness of seeing the man I had loved so deeply pamper another woman so thoroughly.

A shuffle followed from her end. “I’m sorry, you just said something I’m not aware of,” I shot back. “And I’m sure you understand why I’m asking.” Lena hesitated. “The Goth is the dreaded spirit of the Crimson Circle. It can possess you through your deepest desires. When you said Xavier was lost, I thought you meant that the Goth had possessed him.” “What, no!” “The Goth is the common unionizing spirit of the Crimson Circle members,” Lena continued. “For quite a few years, the Goth hasn’t found a suitable host to make it into the world. It’s why not too many people know about it.”

She went back to her bed and laid back on it, in the same position as her lifeless body. She laid back, closed her eyes, and opened them. She got up, looked around, and was greeted with the sight of graves. She was back in that same cemetery, but this time the gates were open and she could see them. Only one name came into her mind "Austin". If he can see her, then there was a reason why. She thought he was the key for her to getting back and she wasn't ready to mess it up this time. She left the cemetery and went back to Austin's place. Standing at the exact place where she stood, waiting for him to come back. She was sure no one was home, because all the lights were out and she had gone in

She just had to get to it. But it seemed Gresso had a sixth sense when it came to her. He placed his hands on the armrests of her chair, imprisoning her within his arms. He lowered his head until their faces were only inches apart. Her pulse throbbed like an open wound in her throat, and air sawed in and out of her mouth as she took shallow breaths. She couldn’t afford to smell him. If she did, she would become more intoxicated because his scent was just another tentacle to pull her under, to be consumed by this weird obsessive octopus thing she had for Gresso.

It was the most disconcerting thing and yet it felt as normal and in place as a puzzle piece. He hesistated for a few seconds but then after probably a great internal battle, his hands slowly found their way to my lower back and that was when I truly, fully broke. My father was dead. My rock. The one person who had always been there for me was dead. He smelt of travel and a light hint of some exquisite perfume. His vampire scent was sophisticated. Like expensive leather in a forest that rain had just fallen in. Definitely noble. Pure blooded vampires always had a sophisticated scent to them. Turned had a less sophisticated scent and children of turned had an even diluted scent. Similar to th

She said, smiling and looking into his ocean blue eyes. Ichabod managed a smile, they were looking at each other and he could see the way she was looking at him…he knew that look. Denis had that hungry look on her face on the night of her wedding…then he felt…wow, was that her hand on his laps? His heart was racing so fast and his palm was sweaty….he could see her parted lips, he knew what this meant. He drew closer to her, so close that he could feel her breath over his face… he could perceive the delicious smell of the alcoholic wine in the scent of her breath, both their hearts were beating simultaneously as if they were both part of a puzzle…she closed her eyes…just as he parted his own

She softly replied as though trying to tame a lion, "Rosie told me you don't contribute much to the relationship. She's young and smart and certain that she will have plenty of suitors at her heels!" A vein throbbed in Connor's forehead, but he said nothing. It looked like he was trying his very best to remain calm. I watched in indifference as he breathed hard to get a grip on himself. If I had seen him in that state while I was alive, I would have panicked and tried to do everything I could to cheer him up again. However, in death, I realized how naive I had been. I had trapped myself in a toxic, suffocating, one-sided relationship. That was not love!

I run as fast as I can and I hear her chanting. “Maledictum… dolor… passio” And the door suddenly bangs like thunder and I could not hear her voice anymore. I don’t know what I just saw but one thing is for sure it scares me. I looked around to check for the two men who were chasing me but they were gone. So I keep on walking to find a way out but every time I walk I feel so hot and sweating. I feel like my skin is burning too and the smell of the sulfur is getting stronger, same with the voices that I can hear; It's getting louder. I saw an open door that I needed to pass so I went inside and checked for the other door. Hoping that this is the way out. I walked slowly again because I could

Ero **** on the first date she confided in me i have a chromosomal disorder, disorder, disorder i need love and pain strangely mixed together my elixirs i suffer reality distoooorrtions a ghastly Vatican of ****** compulsions my soul is black matter my **** a seething cauldron of despicable desire my *** cries for homicidal cruelty mold me into a ******* fold me like a two dollar beach chair the wrong way tear me to bits unwind my intestine eat me like a blood ******* ghoul make me squirm like an anime victim i thought oh finally a soul mate with soul strange as a Dionysian mad hatter on hallucinogenics hot girl creeping grimacing at me meandering conjurations by ****** contortions stunning