Romans & histoires Imitation Of Life Book

My bedroom was messed up and I couldn't think straight when everything was trashy around me. Colliding on a comfortable couch, l opened up the book and began reading it. The pages were coming to my hand as the glue wasn't that strong but either way, Bane did a good job fixing it. The writing inside the book were mainly stories, non-fiction, about the horrible events that happened in the eighteenth century. "Is written by someone from the Redwood bloodline," I mumbled as Isreal’s shadow appeared at the corner of my eyes. "Do you know him? Simon don?"

“Why not just replace me directly?” “Because there is one thing I cannot fully replicate,” the Mimic replied. “The weave inside you. That shifter spirit and the human soul. They are part of your essence, yet they are separate entities that chose to bind themselves to you. It is... complicated. But not impossible.” He raised his hand, and his palm began to glow with a faint gold and blue light, a mockery of Siron’s power. “With enough time with you, I can learn to mimic that too. Or at least, enough to fool the others.” Siron felt a chill. This was worse than he had imagined. The Mimic didn’t just want to kill him; he wanted to take over his life, his relationships, even his allies.

Suddenly they were standing in a city of light—familiar shapes twisted into dream logic. Streets curved into spirals, bridges looped endlessly, and every person she saw had her eyes for a moment before they turned away. > “It’s copying us,” Adrian realized. “Learning individuality by imitation.” “Or trying to rebuild it.” A shiver crawled down Mira’s spine. “This is exactly how I started… when I possessed that body.” The voice softened. > You woke me then. You made me real. Now I will wake you. --- They jolted awake—both gasping, drenched in cold sweat.

I stole it from him because he forbids me of touching his things in his workplace. The book title was "Beauty In Immortality", I wondered what is it all about but my forehead wrinkled when nothing was written inside the book. All of the pages were blank. I throw it in my bed and days passed. I opened it and started to see some words slowly written on the first page. It was magical like it was a book of magic. It was also creepy but I was interested and there I read a weird story that I realized was talking about me.

Something irreparable, but coverable: with smiles, with pretty looks, with good gestures. She doesn't lie, she hides the truth. She doesn't say anything, and she yells a lot in complete silence. She is the absolute image of the controversy. The good, which must be bad by nature. The beautiful thing, that it is completely broken. The strength, which has weaknesses. The quiet girl with books and loud music, who goes out to a party to get high. The promiscuity, that she does not like to kiss. The life that is not real. The life that is invented. The life that must be lived out of obligation. The fake life she invented in her dreams to survive.

I couldn’t protect Mia and I came to realise that love was only a weakness in this world I was living in. After 13 years , I finally met Sophia Emiliya Cyzarine Ivanov again and here she was only a few feet away from me laying on the ground dead. Mama was on her knees next to her body trying to wake her up. Begging her to open her eyes. She was laying in a pool of her own blood. She lost a lot of blood and I knew that on the same day we met again she was taken away from me……again. Mama’s hands and clothes were bloody from trying to stop the bleeding. She had blood smeared on her face because of wiping away her tears.

*FROM HERE ON THERE WILL BE NO CHAPTERS NAME (𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞)

"I'm a vampire, Mo, and you are a living corpse. That's the only term I've ever known for. The man from the castle had long been a vampire before he saw me. I'm not sure why or how, but as a part of some sick game, he decided to clone himself. He looked exactly like me- but we were too different people, in plans and character". His name is Edmond! My shoulders slumped, could it really be? Could all of this just be a sick game of fate? My mind buzzed.

"Lucky for me, I was born with a silver spoon, unlike some people, born to parents who abandoned them." I couldn't help but think back to when Freddie had sat next to me on my bed in my past life, sipping from the bowl of nourishing soup that was supposed to help me recover. He had sneered, "Tyler, you're going to die anyway. Drinking all that soup won't change a thing. I'll just enjoy it for you; no need to thank me." I wanted to rip him apart right then and there—just the thought of him made my skin crawl.

I didn't want them to end up like I had in my previous life and how Lila had ended up in this life. Instead, I wanted them to be like cacti that possessed tenacious vitality.