Parable Of The Madman Novels & Stories

Chapter 1. The beginning of madness Any story begins with birth, but the story of this madman arose long before his birth. He could not even imagine that it would happen to him, not even a tragedy, but a Comedy. Although for him, even Comedy has become a tragedy. Is it possible for a person to survive in the circumstances in which he found himself? Is it possible to remain human if everyone despises you-even those you love? Is it possible to go all the way to the final – to the death? This will be told by the madman himself, because he has no other choice. He will tell the story of his life, not because he wants to be pitied. He wants his story to be heard by people who have lost heart and s

Damon glared at me, his eyes filled with hatred, and roared, "Aris, you've been scheming against us all along? How can you be so vile?!" Torin, pinned to the ground by debt collectors, screamed at me hoarsely, "You need to fix this right now! Otherwise, I'll never forgive you!" His words made me laugh again. It was my fault for fueling his delusional confidence. I looked at him and said slowly, "Your forgiveness means nothing to me. If you had learned anything useful over the years, the pack wouldn't be in such a dire state."

' 'That could be considered treason, watch where you say such things,' Xander replied angrily. 'I only said something because I know you feel the same,' William said. 'You can't tell me you don't think he's off the crocker. Ever since Emma died, he has gone completely insane, wouldn't you say?' William asked. 'Kill every human we meet? That seems rather intense.'

The madman does not care what others think of him, because what leads a person to dementia is often the revelation that the world around him is not as safe or stable as he would like to believe, that it is a populated place by monsters that lurk just beyond the thin veil of reality, that can tear apart a man's soul as well as his body and destroy his mind. You may wonder if I am crazy. If I deny it, that would be proof of my insanity. On the other hand, if I told you that I am crazy, that admission by itself would prove with complete certainty that I have a sane mind and capable of reasoning. But I don't claim to be crazy. As I have said, the only thing that gives a man a clarity of mind tha

He answered all my questions even though we were just one win one question. "So, why did one of your men killed him?" I just asked again. "One question at a time." I rolled my eyes because of what he said. "You didn't even answer my question earlier," "Still you asked another question and I answered." I just rolled my eyes again. I think for a moment. "Hey! I didn't ask anything else! It's like we just talked about what happened before! Don't me, huh! What are you talking about, huh? You thought, huh! Answer my question!" The madman just laughed.

it felt really painful. God, why? The tears that started streaming down his face were making his vision blurry, making him bump against people who were walking. He didn’t even bother saying his sorry, and those people cursed at him, and thought of him as a jerk. But no, Sane didn’t care. Sane didn’t care if those people thought of him as the worst person in the world. He didn’t care if those people thought that he was a spawn of Satan himself, that he was evil incarnate, he didn’t care. Because when one lost someone, he no longer cared

I ask, holding my arm out for him to see. His eyes go wide, horrified. I lean forward, tongue out, and lick the blood from my wound. I hum at the taste; coppery, wild, grounding. He thrashes in the chair, chains rattling. "You're fucking crazy!" he screams. "Somebody help! Fucking help me!" I chuckle. "You're not the first to say that, you know." I tilt my head, smiling like we're sharing an inside joke. "I take it as a compliment."

Can't you just behave? Sofia leaned weakly against Vincenzo's chest and let out a few soft coughs before saying weakly, "Vincenzo, don't be mad. Isabella is just heartbroken. Why don't I talk to her properly and have her go back to rest?" As soon as her words fell, a deafening explosion erupted, shaking the entire dock violently. The searchlights overhead swayed precariously. From the nearby containers that hadn't yet fully collapsed came the piercing screech of twisting metal, and a massive sheet of metal hurled straight toward the three of them.

Warm bread is stacked high in woven baskets. The air smells of spiced stew, roasted meat, and something sweet I can’t quite place. The table is loud, everyone swapping stories of the journey and what has been going on in the city. It’s comforting to finally be in a calm environment. Someone at the far end of the table is recounting how one of the camels nearly kicked Safiya into a water trough. “It hated me for no reason,” Safiya complains. “You screamed at it first,” a man across from her argues.

Aric challenged, the determination on his face was enough to convince anyone that he was telling the truth. "I have seen fire, I have seen wars, I have seen life to its fullest and death at its worst. I'm the one who put laughter in manslaughter. I have seen a mother forsaking her own blood wolf, I have seen the birth of abominations, the birth of a Goddess and the death of one. Not for this day when a lowly dog like you will doubt my words." She sneered, her madness on full display. Taking all the insults the madwoman was throwing his way, Aric stood there silently. He was not going to start a fight that he knew would end up with the Oracle handing him his own ass.