Living Hell Novels & Stories

Philip tells us while before closing the door after him. Once I make sure we are alone, I start narrating all that has happened. How I saw Atticus and Phillip’s plans, “Ohh Lilly, he is in deplorable state in the farthest cell of the dungeons, a place that has not been used in over a hundred years and where no human should stay no matter if it's a true criminal. The place has no ventilation, no heating or cooling system, no sewage, no commodities, nothing. He is chained to the ceiling, his toes barely touching the dirty floor. I don’t think he can last much longer in that condition.” I couldn't help it any longer and started to cry the river I was holding.

Wow, the awful neighborhood has to call home. That smells really bad, I must say. Delia insisted that we should stay outside even though the rest of us covered our noses with our palms and inside. As we proceeded deeper inside the place, it became clear that this location is the worst possible environment for a human to live in; there was a mirror that was only half intact, bed sheets that were torn, and a wooden bed. I don't even know how she manages to get any rest. Not that it makes any difference to me. This is the price that must be paid for terminating the lives of other people.

Liviana is hit with a spell of déjà vu the moment she ventures through that office door and settles back down in that chair, across from her husband, beside her sister-in-law, stuck in hell all over again, it seems. But really, what else was new? At this point, she was beginning to think that, after birth, after leaving the hospital, she had gotten lost on her way home and entered some alternate dimension where she was stuck in an eternal hell - stuck in this chair living some never-ending nightmare.

“She told me she sent you here to meet a client.” Her shocked expression returns. “She knows I’m living here. There’s no way I would bring any client near this place. You… shouldn’t be here.” Her eyes leave me and her gaze travels around the room. I sense embarrassment. She has no idea that I’ve lived in much worse conditions. When Moon and I tracked down the cartel that killed his parents, we spent a good deal of time in roach-infested shacks made from scrap wood with no toilet or running water. This room is paradise compared to the poor areas in Mexico.

Her eyes darted between Rachel, Howard, and Jason, but there was no shame there anymore, only raw, naked frenzy. Ginny’s voice cracked through the silence like thunder, “I lived in hell! Do you hear me? Do you know what it’s like to watch other children eat good food while you can only eat one food for three whole days? To wear clothes that stank of other people’s sweat? Do you know what it’s like to watch your mother clean up filth for the rich while you starve in the shadows? Everyone in that place insulted me. They called me poor, they said I was going to live in that little house forever with no hope of rising to the sky.” Ginny's voice went higher and higher the more she spoke, her hand

It could but at the same time, it couldn't. Thompsons were full of themselves but even they knew they were nothing without the products they made with Elder wood. No matter the goal or the plan, they would never risk walking around without it while we were still existing. I stood in front of him and lifted his face so he was looking into my eyes. He was naked and sweating but the look on his face made it obvious he believed he was in the worst situation anyone could be in but he was so damn wrong. Humans, his family, have done much worse things to our kind.

The heat never left them, somehow worse than when they were actually in the sun. And Blood would say, “you can confess your sins and turn yourself in, granting a reprieve from this hell,” he swirled the ice cubes around as the sweat from their bodies started to steam, “or, you can experience what hell has to offer every time you close your eyes while you still live and still meet me in the underworld.” Then he dropped them into their waiting seven circles of hell to witness every personalized torment each ring had waiting for them. When they finally awoke in terror, Blood was waiting with that same glass of lemonade. “So, what will it be?”

"I don't want to, because… "Luther Spencer, you disgust me," Callista spat. Luther jolted awake in panic, and he rushed into the bathroom. He scrubbed his body over and over again. He nearly peeled his skin off. His eyes were bloodshot, and he mumbled unconsciously, "Honey, I'm clean now. I'm not dirty anymore. I've cleaned everything off. Please don't think I'm disgusting. "I even threw up what I ate. Please, don't hate me. I'll make sure no one else ever comes here again."

Walking up to me, she jabbed her fore finger on my chest and continued “You think you did a favor on me by sparing me. Favor, my foot. I would rather prefer dying than living in this hell hole. You know what, do both of us a favor and let me answer your gun. I would fucking happily leave this hell and head out straight to heaven.” “You call this hell hole. This. You think this is hell hole.” I screamed equally. Poking my forefinger on her forehead, I gritted furiously “You don’t fucking know what is hell in my world. Hell is you getting kidnapped by random men the moment you step out of this house. Hell is multiple men raping you every day. Hell is getting thrown into a brothel house and get

The creditors he had trampled on, the drug dealers he had humiliated, and the street thugs desperate to move up the ranks—they would all swarm like sharks smelling blood and tear him apart, inch by inch. Living was going to be his real hell.