Romans & histoires Norman Babcock Paranorman

"Has everyone lost their minds? Sarah, have you forgotten what happened the last time this man was allowed on this property? He’s a thief who stole your intellectual property." Tyler didn't back down. He stepped forward, meeting Norman’s heat with a cold, jagged edge of his own. "I’m not a thief, Norman. And you’d do well to remember who you’re talking to." "You’re a parasite," Norman spat, his voice dropping to a guttural hiss. "Get out. Before I have security drag you to the main road." "Norman, enough!" I snapped. My voice cut through the tension, but Norman didn't settle. He turned to me, his chest heaving under his work shirt.

"I've found a hobby recently. Journaling. I've been documenting everything related to you. Every time Damon lets his guard down. Every secret meeting, every whispered threat, every crack in the armor." My stomach turned. "You've been spying. On all of us." "Observing." He corrected, tucking the journal away. "There's a difference." "And Damon? He trusts you. He's protected you your whole life." Norman's expression flickered, something dark passing behind his eyes. "Protected me? He's kept me in a cage. A gilded one, sure. Video games. Pocket money. A nice apartment. But still a cage." His voice hardened. "I'm not his pet, Lana. I'm not anyone's pet.”

"Who else? You know I never touch snacks." Mr. Satan chuckled, popped open the beer, and clinked it with Allen's. "Congrats, you finally got what you wanted." "Thanks," Allen Parker said with a faint smile. "By the way, about the Norman family... have you figured out what you're going to do?" Mr. Satan pressed his lips together tightly and shook his head. "My dad and grandma still want me to take over the Norman family business. I’ve refused so many times, but they just won’t give up."

"My name doesn't concern you," Her next step faltered when he leaned in close, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath against her ear and neck, sending a sharp jolt down her spine despite her best efforts to ignore it. "It concerns me more than you think," Norman murmured, his tone edged with something dark. "I like to know the names of women who look at me like they want to kill me... or fûck me." Calla froze mid-step, her jaw tightening. She turned, just enough to glare at him, and bit out. "In your fûcking dreams,"

Klaus asked with obvious bewilderment. "Five. It's better to be safe, so we'll be ready for when you have to make them," Norman explained. ". But Dr. Rohn said that if I start to feel symptoms, we should go for blood tests." "We'll do that too. But in the meantime, we'll have these just in case. Besides, Norman turned to see the Omega in a halt: "Stop contradicting me, a puppy; don't think I haven't noticed; you've been making fun of me," he said with grace and mock indignation.

"Nathan... how long is Uncle Stanley going to be here? I thought he was just staying for a few days after... after the funeral." Nathan’s eyebrows furrowed, a genuine flash of confusion crossing his face. "Why are you asking? You don't like having him around?" Norman finally looked up. His eyes were wide, reflecting the dim hallway lights. "I do, but... he’s being weird, Nathan. He’s bringing different women into Mum’s room. They’re loud, and they’re shouting. And there are these strange men coming into the house at all hours. They look like criminals. I’m scared to even go to the kitchen."

** "Wait, Norman. This doesn't make sense. Peter isn't the type to do something like this on purpose. What really happened?" **Norman snorted, clearly frustrated at not receiving total support. He continued with his manipulative narrative, emphasizing that I was a threat to the competition and that my actions had harmed the whole group.** "Yes, of course. Peter should be the hero of the story, but I'm telling the truth. He sabotaged our progress. Now, we have to wait here while the other pairs surpass us. Blame him!"

And then a bit of an uproar rose amongst them although in a whisper. "But you can't have a female look at all these things, she probably has no knowledge about how things works here and not to talk of this is the headquarters Mr Norman and not just anyone can come here" The Man added. His last statement got me. Who was he calling 'just anyone?' Me? Damn! I hated people that condescends others and just like it was the straw I needed to flare, Mr Norman looked at me, giving me a heads on to defend myself.

All my life, I have been trained to be the best. I was trained to always follow the norm, the standard. I was little miss perfect. They turned me into one, and I had no choice but to be one. I didn’t have much freedom growing up because there were a lot of expectations from me. They were all watching me. I couldn’t move freely because every move that In make, they will always have a say about it.

norman who had pent up anger built in her already was waiting for just the right time to explode still bottling up her anger, "i do not care or give a fuck about your godamn policies child get whoever is in there out i would pay them all, everyone if them i need that booth, i want that booth and i would have it now without anymore narrations of sick policies" norman yells her voice having strong echo as everyone in the restaurant strals glances at her, the waiter who was getting pretty embarrassment pulls out a cellphone to call someone, guards rushes in towards norman as xyla walks out if the private booth,