Graphic Violence Novels & Stories

All this has opened my eyes and a lightbulb flickers on. Physical exertion in different forms to handle different emotions. Logical ones. Sex for stress, sexual cruelty for anger or pain. Violence for rage … it’s finally making sense. There’s logic to him even if it’s not normal male logic, there is a pattern which means there’s a way to live with him and work this out.

The table rocked beneath their violent rhythm. He fucked her with the same focused intensity with which he painted, a relentless, creative force. Each thrust was a bold stroke, each grind of his hips a blending of color on a palette. His hands were everywhere, gripping, squeezing, painting bruises onto her skin that would bloom later like violent watercolors. He whispered filth into her ear, words that described her body in crude, artistic terms, telling her what a perfect, fuckable masterpiece she was.

The battlefield around me blurred, the clash of claws and the scent of blood becoming a disorienting symphony. Alpha Draxler, undeterred by my waning strength, refocused on Trevor. A vicious slash, a grotesque ballet of violence, painted Trevor's chest in a vivid display of crimson. The scene unfolded in agonizing slow motion, each drop of blood a testament to the sacrifices demanded by our world.

Each bruise and cut a testament to the violence I unleashed. With each reflection I passed, the severity of my condition became more apparent. The swelling around my eye was turning into a dark, angry purple, the cut on my lip a stark contrast against my skin. These reflections were a harsh reminder of the path I had chosen, a path marked by violence and a desperate attempt to escape my thoughts.

he chuckled with a cocky smirk on his face, as if he won. Oh no. I played right into his game. Damn it! I smiled, “scared is rather a preposterous word. I’d say I am impressed by your sword skills.” Maintaining his faint smile, he lifted a brow. “Impressed? Ladies generally don’t like violence.” Violence was a word my whole life wrapped around, albeit I was always its victim. But I learnt one thing. It depends on how someone takes violence. Violence does two things: break one’s body and shatter their soul and life, or it crushes them into nothingness and then moulds them anew.

Siobhan smiled. Siobhan had a huge cut on his forehead. Violet looked at him and started her analysis. Huge cut on his forehead and cheeks, from the blunt force of the ceramic that the altar boy throws at him. Dry skin, wrinkles, and acne were visible on his face. His clothes are all black including his shoes. She can't smell alcohol and drugs from him. He just kills not because he's stoned or drunk, but because of the fun. A thrill kill. A premeditated or random act of murder that is motivated by the sheer excitement of the act.

But fighting until one of us stops breathing. Because that's all that's left. Violence. Blood. Death. Brothers destroying each other.

I knew deep down that succumbing to violence would only perpetuate a cycle of hurt and destruction. Exerting tremendous effort, I fought against the primal urge, feeling my hands tremble with the internal struggle. I understood that giving in to the temptation of violence would only exacerbate our already fractured relationship. With every ounce of self-control, I suppressed the mounting anger, determined to find a resolution that did not involve further harm.

AURELIA Brutality always unsettled me. I couldn't stomach it. I never understood people whose orbit rotated around invoking violence. The blood of a man—the man who attacked me earlier—was splattered on my face. I waited for the acerbic bile to rise in my throat, followed by the goosebumps breaking out on my skin, and an impending feeling of guilt that I'd just watched a man die because of me. But they never came. Violence, blood, and gore squirmed me. I'd pass on a good movie if it had these triggers, and bat more than an eye when met with one. Yet, this time was different.

WARNING THE NEXT CHAPTERS WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC CONTENT OF SEXUAL VIOLENCE. CAUTION IS ADVISED. I awake with a throbbing pain in my head. The left side of my head feels sticky and has the most throbbing. I feel like someone just hit me with a Mack truck. My eyes are groggy but begin to focus around the room. I am no long bathed in the darkness of where I was but, I am still not in good shape, I look down trying to focus my eyes. I left eye can barely open. Whoever hit me must have given me a black eye, on top of knocking me the fuck out.