I Woke Up And Chose Violence Novels & Stories

He looked relieved when he saw me approach, but that relief was short-lived. A door burst open, and one of Viktor’s men stormed into the hallway, gun in hand. My body reacted on instinct. I surged forward, using the momentum to drive my elbow into his throat before he could even raise his weapon. He gasped for air, eyes wide in shock, and I took him down with a swift kick to the legs. His gun clattered to the floor, but before I could reach it, another thug appeared.

"Look baby, violence isn't always the answer, and should always be used as a last resort." "What if it is the only choice you have?" "There is always a choice.”

“Do it.” I chose violence against myself instead. I tore away with a sound that didn’t belong to the living or the dead. My hands left her and found the world. The nearest thing was the hatch. I grabbed it and the wrist of the woman who would not fear me and threw her—hard, but I tried to make it not break her—through the square of dark and down onto the boards inside. Her cry was more anger than pain; the fact that I could tell the difference damned me.

Now we just had to figure out how to get past the guards and escape this hellhole. “We’ll have to fight our way out,” I continued, pacing the small space between us. My heart thudded in my chest, adrenaline buzzing through me. “But if you can, stun them instead of killing them. I mean, I haven’t been tainted enough by the world to be too jaded, you know? I'm not exactly softhearted, but I still want to make a difference. Show everyone that violence isn’t always the answer.” “Bullocks!” “I'm serious! You can't just kill them. Some of them are my, um, well, friends. Not super close, but some of them owe a bakery, and they bake cake that is out of this world yummy. I just—”

I became clumsy around these brothers and I didn't like it. "Why? Because I'll be stuck with one of you eventually?" "Exactly," his agreement had me seeing red. I curled my fingers into tight fists until my nails dug into my calloused palms. Focusing on the pain was better than focusing on the way my fingers formed a perfect fist that would meet even perfectly with his left eye. I never believed violence was the answer but I desperately wanted to punch something and Orion's flawless face was an appealing target. "Why don't you both just quit the damn games," I didn't mean to shout. All the pent-up rage bubbled and rose.

I breathed in slow, letting the spark settle with me. I did not know if any of my choices would save me. I only knew this: I would not be taken without a fight. If I had to be the weapon, I would choose the target. If I had to be a god, I would choose which stories the men told of me.

Windle Pov... When I woke up naked in someone else's bed, I am totally mad and wants to kill anyone blocking my path. The first thing that comes to my mind is I'll be in a pornographic video. It boils my blood thinking of that! Since I am confused that day and frustrated, I didn't think of the CCTV footage of how I came there. Dad was right I become soft recently and I needed to be tough again.

“What are you doing?” “You shouldn't be out of bed,” I tell her before tucking her in and covering her with the quilt again. Bending down, I grabbed the drip and attached it to her hand which she had ripped off her skin probably to save that fucker. If it wasn't for her, he would have died today. “Well blame yourself for it. Honestly, why can't you ever not choose violence as an option?” She hissed at me. “I can never think straight when it comes to you, Alina. Having someone else claim you as theirs, is a whole another thing. That fucker was asking for war when he even dared to think he could take you from me.”

Smith's POV. I woke up to the usual piercing sound of my alarm, but this morning, it felt like a hammer against my skull. I didn’t want to get up. I didn’t want to face the world. But I did it anyway. The routine. It had to be done. No choice.

“I can’t, I can’t do this, there’s too many of them and I don’t know how to fight and we’re going to die here and I just want to be home and—” I slapped her lightly. She blinked, focusing on me. “Yes, you can,” I replied firmly. “You’re going to get up, and you’re going to run with me, and we are going to make it through this. On three." I picked up a gun from a machine guard he had killed. My hands were steadier than they had a right to be. I was starting to feel disturbingly comfortable with violence. "One. Two. Three."