Graphic Violence Novels & Stories

Quenten Yilmaz: Blood. Violence. Gut-wrenching, paralyzing screams. They follow me everywhere, including in my sleep. It’s like a reel of snippets flashing before my very eyes. Splatters of blood paint the walls. Screams of terror intertwine and become a single, continuous harmony of devastation that rings in my ears. Flashing balls of light ignite in the dark as illuminated bullets slice through the air, hitting everything in their path. Men drop to the ground swiftly, followed by a hush of silence.

NICOLAI POV Spots of blood swam in my vision, and I stabbed into the table in front of me, then took a drag of the cigarette I held. The rage I felt filled every pore of my skin and it was suffocating, but I basked in it, the urge to do damage, the urge to cause pain, the urge to cut something up growing until I trembled with it. I'd been so close. So close to killing Lucas, and even now, I felt the urge to look for him and cut him up until I got the rage out of my skin. The thought of violence spread all over my system and I killed the cigarette, then slowly rose from my chair.

They’re heavy, unresponsive, a reminder of how badly I’ve been pushed to the edge. My skin is a canvas of pain. Every inch of it seems to have been stained with violence. Bruises bloom across my arms and legs in varying shades of purple and black, as if the darkened marks are painting a picture of my suffering. They ache deep inside, the pain radiating outward with every subtle shift I make.

Denial this роwеrful is buіlt оvеr generations. Humanity’s аbіlіtу to normalize atrocious асtѕ under the label of buѕіnеѕѕ, аnd thеn hеаd home fоr dinner, ѕhосkѕ me. There’s something ѕо carelessly brutаl, killing for ѕаtіѕfасtіоn lіkе cats, kіllіng fоr fun аnd profit.

•Simulated Sexual Assault •Consensual Non-consent •Strong Language •Graphic Violence •───⋅☾ ☽⋅───• AUTHOR'S NOTE Thank you so much for choosing to read my story! Your support means the world to me. I would love to hear your thoughts, so please feel free to leave a comment and vote if you enjoyed the book. Your feedback not only fuels my writing but also keeps me from talking to myself in a padded room. •───⋅☾ ☽⋅───• POINT OF VIEWS - POVs.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is purely coincidental. This story contains scenes and themes that may be disturbing to some readers, including depictions of violence, trauma, emotional distress, and adult situations. Reader discretion is advised. The author does not condone or glorify any acts of violence, abuse, or illegal behavior portrayed within these pages. These elements are included solely for the purpose of exploring the psychological and emotional dimensions of the characters and the story. UPDATE SCHEDULE -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

I said as my knife sliced through his thigh, blood spurted out, a deep crimson that made me high for more. "Bitch, fucking bitch" he cussed, his finger almost touching the butt of his gun but I kicked it out of his reach. I stared at his bloodied mess with a smile. "Are you hurt Burn, because I must say I haven't even started yet. This is for taking advantage of me" I growled, then slammed my elbow against his jaw, watching with glee as his head smacked against the ground, and the sickening crunch of bone reached my ears. "This is for all the lashes you inflicted on me," I recounted, my knife slashing the skin on his temple, and watched as blood spurted into his eyes, blinding him. I dragged

WARNING SIGNS: LANGUAGE THAT IS UNAMBIGUOUS CURSING VIOLENCE, GUN VIOLENCE SELF-INFLICTED HARM BLOOD, DECEASE, and GORE VALENTINA’s POV I gripped the razor-sharp blade firmly. I paid no attention to how deeply the blade sliced into the flesh of my palm. My crimson blood that spilled out and stained the floor beneath went unnoticed by me. I felt relieved. Experiencing physical pain in my body was a wonderful diversion from the mental anguish that plagued me.

I wrenched the gun away, the butt crashing into his temple, and he crumpled. The last one stood frozen, gun shaking. I approached, steady and slow. "Please, don't kill me..." he pleaded, retreating. "Ah, she never learns," I muttered to myself. I wiped the gun I had picked up from the ground and, without a second thought, squeezed the trigger. His eyes bulged as he collapsed into a growing crimson pool. I strolled back to the wedding car, tapping on the window. The driver, still white as a sheet, swung the door open.

• Psychological manipulation (gaslighting, mind games, blurred reality) • Dubious consent / non-consensual themes (coercion, power imbalances) • Obsession & possessiveness (stalking, toxic attachment, unhealthy control) • Graphic violence & gore (blood, injury, death, explicit descriptions) • Torture & pain infliction (psychological and physical torment) • Cults & rituals (dark family traditions, blood oaths, disturbing ceremonies) • Abuse & trauma (emotional, physical, sexual abuse) • Murder & death (brutal character deaths)