Intoxicated Chapter 1 Novels & Stories

~Trigger Warning: This story is rated 18+. This chapter contains descriptions of self-harming behaviors such as suicide, self-inflicted injuries, body harm, alcohol and drug abuse, which may be triggering for readers with lived experiences.~ I woke up with a start. Breathing heavily, I looked around my room. It was dark and nothing seemed out of place. Grabbing my chest, it felt like someone just ran a sword through me. This didn’t feel like it was coming from the runes, either.

Trigger warning: The following chapter contains themes of abuse and violence, which may be triggering for some survivors. Reader’s discretion is advised. Alinta's head was killing her; everything from the hotel became a blur. She could only feel strong arms holding tightly onto her. Foggy images appeared of Bellinor's face looking contentedly at her. She would open her eyes with difficulty, only for them to be forced shut again due to the relentless migraine she was experiencing. The final flash was her feeling as though she was floating. The sound of eager steps hitting a stone floor made its way to her ears. Her thoughts became her own, but her body did not respond as she had hoped. Her ch

The liquid burned my throat and made my belly clench so hard that I felt my breath leave me. My heart suddenly stopped, my eyes rolled up and everything began to move in fast, sharp spins. I could feel my legs shaking beneath me and my head felt so light. I didn't know what was in what I just took, but I knew it was nothing good. “Are you okay?” Their voices were swirling around me like crashing waves and I could barely feel my feet in my shoes. I stood frozen for a minute, letting my blank mind switch back on. “Why is it so intoxicating?” I whispered.

Vincent stood frozen, his claws dripping and his eyes blazing gold—while Maria’s lifeless body lay at his feet. On his other hand, he held the journal—it was writing on its own once more. The words glowed in blood-red ink: “Chapter Two Hundred and One: The Bride’s Arrest.” The police lights flashed intensely as guns were raised and voices shouted, “Hands up!”

I slid into the backseat of the car, the leather of the seat cold against my skin, I turned to Ivan with a command that cut through the silence like a blade, “take me to headquarters.” The journey to the main headquarters was as tense as my own nerves, each passing moment heightening my anticipation. Upon arrival at the place that had become my second home, I felt a surge of adrenaline as I prepared to confront my addiction head-on. Stepping into the torture chamber, a sense of grim satisfaction washed over me as I beheld the battered figure of a boy sprawled on the ground. His body bore the marks of a violent struggle - bruises mottled his skin, deep knife cuts oozed crimson trails. Yet, as

WARNING: Some readers may find this chapter extremely depressing. Trigger warning: This content includes themes related to drug abuse. Please proceed with caution, and if you find it distressing, consider seeking support or skipping this part of the story. Your well-being is important. Claire ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ Tears blurred my vision as I snatched up my heels and sprinted toward the elevator. I couldn't bear to stay a moment longer in that suffocating room.

I cocked my head to the right in submission. "Take it." ♾ You've come to the end of this chapter. Thank You for reading Chapter Twenty-Eight| Intensity. Are you ready for the heat? Skip the next chapter. It is mature! Love, Coco

As I get in the car I look for my gun, I find it straight away and say to myself – “It’s show time” (Hey everyone, I added Maria and Karkov to the chapter "Introducing the characters", I hope it helps)

Because I know Nicolas will wake up and look for me again, or do something even more horrible than what he's already done. I only make it to the living room when I feel sudden thirst, with the pain becoming unbearable. So I lean against the nearest wall, and with all my strength, I lift the bottle to my lips. The liquid burns everything it touches. From my injured mouth from clenching hard, to the pit of my stomach where more pain emerges from. I take another sip and nearly faint from the pain that comes afterwards. Realizing the alcohol is making everything worse, I move to drop the bottle on the nearest surface, but I don't make it up to two steps when my legs give out, and everything turn

Chapter 11: A Debt in Blood Pain pulsed through my skull, dragging me slowly back to consciousness. My head felt like it was wrapped in fog, each thought sluggish and disjointed. My body—limp and heavy, like something had drained all life from it—lay uncomfortably on cold, unforgiving stone. A damp, stagnant air filled the room, the pungent scent of mildew mixing with something metallic, like blood, so thick I could almost taste it.