Oh Ophelia Novels & Stories

Ophelia I woke up to a knock at the door. It unlocked and Lana walked in holding a white tray. “Good morning Ophelia.” she smiled, walking over to the bed. “Good morning Lana.” As she set the tray on the table, I got out of bed and walked over to take a seat in the chair. “This looks good. What is it?” “This is fried eggs with kielbasa topped with dill. You also have blinis with mixed fruit jam. And you also have black tea.”

I will not let that happen, not when I am still alive" Ophelia shrilled her next plan out loud, a burning killer intent flashing in her eyes. ****** Later that night, Ophelia had put all her broken piece of glass and other materials aside. She took a shower to hopefully wash off the pain. Few minutes after her long bath, she walked into dressing room and picked up a transparent linen night gown that covered nothing but the hairs on her skin. Her round petite nipples pointed out, threatening to rip that part of the tight night gown open. Without the straining of the eyes, one could easily see every part of her body. She squirted her pleasant aromatic perfume before glaring at her figure in th

"Ophelia died in 1996." Olivia's heart skipped a beat. Her mind raced. 1996. The same year Asher had been born.

I am Ophelia Hawthorne… …Who are you?

Stark naked, her body on full display. As the door opened, Othello’s head snapped back. His eyes shot bullets at me, clearly not expecting me to return so soon. My face burned hotter — both for invading their privacy and for seeing them like this. “I’m sorry!” I panicked, hurriedly turning to leave. “Why going so early? Wouldn’t you like to watch?” Ophelia’s high-pitched, seductive voice called out. She had zero shame — it was exactly why she danced completely naked on stage, cunt and breasts on full display.

I could tell tenacity when I saw one. And at that moment, Ryker was looking at me with eyes filled with tenacity. He was going to kill me. "Say goodbye to father and mother, when you get there," Ophelia said with a scornful laugh. I shuddered. "Please..." I begged and cried. "Let me go," I added. "Let me have the honor." Ophelia stepped forward with a jar. I watched as she poured the contents on the floor, in a clean circle around me. My heart began thudding erratically against my chest. Was this how I'd die?

Her eyes are misty, a concerned frown on her face. “Damian, I’m okay. You’re okay.” She says. “Of course. But what did you do?” I ask. The glassy look in her eyes vanishes. She looks aside and then pales just as Henrick comes in clapping. “This is a miracle!” He says. “Calming energies. Mist.” Ophelia gasps, and before anything else– She slips from under my arm. And then she dashes away. Confusion rings about the room. Henrick exhaled, locking eyes with me.

I can finally see her and not just perceive her. "Alexios, how great to see you again." Sophia's mom's voice might have sounded friendly, but her eyes, her gaze were anything but friendly. "And who is this pretty lady beside you?" She asked referring to Ophelia. "You all heard that right? I am a lady not a kid!" Ophelia snorted using the mind link. "That's my youngest Ophelia." Mom answered smiling. "She is an eight grader." I almost laughed as mom added that. Ophelia's reaction was priceless and I wished I had captured that.

She came too late to save her child. Ophelia closed her eyes, trying to process everything in her brain. It has been long since the prophecy was revealed but none of them bothered asking why she chose Vivian. Why Vivian? She tried everything she could to stop Vivian from coming to Gael, from getting close to Styx because that was the only way she could save her. But no matter how hard she tries, she can't stop them. And to top it all, she now has an illness, an illness that would kill her in the next few days.

At first, all I could make out through the gathering gloom was that she was tall, and wore a long, white dress that trailed behind her. She wore a white veil over her face, and it made me realize with a shiver that her garment was a wedding dress. "I'm here, Arthur," Ophelia said as she drew back the veil that had obstructed her features. "I came to tell you goodbye." Her face was porcelain white, save for the blood-red lipstick she wore, which was smudged at the corners of her mouth. Ophelia's expression was cold and unreadable. Judging from her now slim silhouette, she also appeared to be no longer pregnant.