Hero/Heroin Novels & Stories

But, this wasn't the subject right now. “Do you know what is the difference between a naive fool and a hero of justice?" She clenched her fist, a fierce expression on her face. "It's their strength. The first requirement of being a hero isn’t being right. It’s being strong. That’s why the hero always wins.”

My father was a hero cop, but I was a blemish to his shining resume as I was a delinquent who smoked, drank, and got into fights. Every time I tried to visit him at the precinct, he would slap me and tell me to leave in front of his colleagues. His fatherly love was all meant for Nana Smith, the daughter of his fallen comrade who was a paragon of good character and academic excellence. When Nana was kidnapped, he sent the entire city's officers after the kidnappers. When I was stabbed three times by some thugs and called him for help, he snapped at me, "Quit being a bother. The death of vermin like you is simply good riddance anyway." Even as I suffocated in agony, I lay in a pool of my

Mom is one of the most famous reporters in the country. She exposes all kinds of wrongdoing, and the public hails her as a champion of justice. What she doesn't know is that while she's out fighting for other people, I'm being viciously bullied at school. When I finally work up the courage to ask her for help, she gives me a disgusted look and tells me to quit being so dramatic. Eventually, my bullies beat me to death and bury my body in a reeking drainage ditch. When my body is finally dug up, Mom is the reporter sent to cover the scene.

Aurelia licked off the tape and sealed it that way. Sometimes the insomnia could only be combated with this drug, which made you feel dull and heavy after just a few tokes. She hated alcohol, even if it would have helped in this case as well. In excess, it was poisonous and contaminated the body, not just the liver and brain. It also attacked nerves, changed personality and made addicts. Medicines were definitely out of the question. Like many of her friends, she preferred the mild, weakly dosed herb.

This time he’s clutching his neck then his chest. Ace chuckles darkly without stepping away from his gaze, initially satisfied to where things are heading. "How does it feel to have a dose of your own medicine? Oh scratch that...it's no medicine, it's poison,” she emphasizes the last word enough to shut him up for a few seconds due to shock, “heroin is pretty fatal right? having the right dose especially when combined with alcohol-it can kill you in minutes." "You...h.how did you.. I didn't see you-"

…Cause the cure is found in you, I don't want it, but I do… You're my problem and my solution at the same time. …You're just like poison My affliction, I'm addicted, I can't lie… But everything about us is a lie. The only person I can't lie to is myself. …Kiss me one more time before I die… Kiss me one more time before I leave..."

Minutes had passed she heard the celebration outside. “After what happened, they were partying”, she scoffed but now everything seemed to had died down. A knock tapped against her door. “Reign?” she called, barely above a whisper. She rushed to the door and opened it. Luke. Her heart dropped. He leaned against the frame, his shirt wrinkled, collar open, the faint stench of whiskey souring the air. His eyes were dark, hungry even. “What are you doing here?” Her voice sharpened.

" Sulfuric acid? My heart raced with terror as I looked at them, shaking my head desperately, trying to bolt. However, it was no use. My dad pinned me down, and my mom fetched a small bottle of toilet cleaner: sulfuric acid. She soaked a cotton swab in it and ruthlessly dabbed it onto my fingertips. The acid hissed against my skin, and the agony was so intense I convulsed and screamed until my voice was raw. My mom watched my charred fingertips and nodded, pleased with her work.

Unadulterated hatred and bloodlust filled his eyes even as he muttered expressionlessly, "The three of you deserve to die, and so do I. You'll make up for killing Izzy by going to hell! Don't worry, I'll see you guys down there soon enough!" When the police stormed into the detention room, they found Caleb and the others lying in pools of their blood, covered in stab wounds. Sasha had entered the room with the cops. She took one look at the gory sight before her and the deadly gleam in Alexander's eyes and screamed. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she blacked out. She would awake every night for the next few decades with nightmares of lying in a pool of her blood. The horrific

Our best friend, the person we'd trusted with everything, being the villain the whole time? "Ten seconds." We could run. Take the money. Disappear. Or we could fight and probably die. "Five seconds." "Okay," I said. "We'll take the money." Maya lowered the gun slightly. "Smart choice." "On one condition," Damien added. "You tell us everything. Every detail. We deserve to know what we're running from." "Fair." Maya pulled up a chair, gun still ready. "Let's start with your mother, Alex. The woman I killed when I was nineteen years old."