Hate Novels & Stories

I fully-fledged ignored him for the whole month but that day luck was not on my side. The day when our Hate War officially started... ****Vote and Comment***

I snapped, running a hair through my hair to calm myself down. I had a reputation— I was known to be the Shadow. The best sniper/hitman in the whole world. I take money from people to kill whoever they wanted me to, without asking questions. I didn't care as long as I was getting the money. I was feared. The simple mention of my name would make people tremble in fear. I was known to be a heartless, cold and fearless sniper who never misses his target. Cedric was only wasting my time by arguing with me for a damn seat. I had other jobs to do, other places to be, more important things to do than arguing with that bitch who was currently standing in front of me with two glasses of wine in his h

His face always pissed her off. "You wish." he said looking around like he was trying to locate someone. "Looking for Nora, huh?" Sierra snorted. "You jerk. You can flirt with other girls but not with my best friend Nora. I would not tolerate such rude behavior right in my presence." Zeke didn't reply. Instead, he scoffed loudly with no remorse on his face. Sierra had never been this pissed with anyone in her life before. She left his presence without waiting for a response. When she got to her room, she locked the door.

His words were heart breaking. A part of Aroon's heart was telling him to go and apologize Dae for all he did to him but the other part was still telling him that Dae was just playing with his feelings. Dae told him that, he love him and won't do anything against him. Can anyone love a person who hates him and hurts him ? If so that person should be an angel. Now Aroon was sure about one thing, either Dae is an innocent little angel or he is a devil.

“At least he knows that you are watching, that you still care for him after what happened.” “I don’t think he ever thought that I care for him. He hates me, remember?” I remembered, “I wish I have noticed it sooner, so I could have done something about it.” How could we make the people who hate us unhate us? Are we supposed to change ourselves? Or do the things that they like even it is against us? I don’t think that people could hate you just because you are a specific kind of person, or just because you live in a different way. Hate

Never Again 🌷 “Hate is a terrible thing. It's a wasteful, stupid emotion. You can hate someone with all your heart, but it'll never do them a bit of harm. The only person it hurts is you. You can spend your days hating, letting it eat away at you, and the person you hate will go on living just the same. So, what's the point?” ~•~ •E V E L Y N•

"Don't worry, my men are after your friends. You will see them again soon" Leni was beautiful, Mira thought. But there's something ugly in her that she can't fathom. She's young, Mira guessed. But she looked old and mature like an adult. Hatred truly affects people in all possible ways, in all aspects. Hate is like a cancer on the soul, slowly killing you from the inside, corrupting your whole being without you noticing. It is lethal to adopt hatred and give it residence in your heart.

He opened the beer and passed one bottle each. "Guys. What's more strong? Love or hate"? He started the conversation after a moment of thinking. "Depends. If it's to revenge, then hate. Otherwise Love". Conrad replied. "But what if we are not sure about Love"? Noah asked. "Baby you can't hate someone if you have never loved someone. Hate never comes alone. It's always the other side of Love, like two sides of a coin". Conrad said. Noah looked into his eyes. "But..."

I clasped my palms together, hoping he would see the desperation in my eyes. “If you have any ounce of conscience, Eve, then you’ll marry me. Are you not afraid of Arthur finding out? Do you want to be back on the street, homeless?” He pushed me out of his way, leaving me on the ground while I cried till I was tired. I hate my father, I hate him so much that I wish he would just go to hell. It was because of him my mother died, and now—just when I was about to start a better life, his deeds are back to haunt me.

“What does that mean?” “Nothing,” he chews. “Hate is subjective. It varies from person to person. Do you see me hating your brother the same way you think I hate you?” I shake my head. “But hate is hate, isn’t it?” “I want to hate-fuck you, I want to hate-kill your brother,” he shrugs. “See the difference, bambina.” My legs press together as I pretend to ignore his words. “That doesn’t answer my question.”