Parable Of The Madman Novels & Stories

******* Flashback "Whatever I am listening to, is that true....if it's true then how can you do this, don't you feel ashamed while doing this...?" Mr. Hassan was at his office when Mr. Zeb enters his office angrily. Seeing him furious and after listening to him what he just said Mr. Hassan looks at him non-understandingly. "What did you heard Zeb, and about what should I feel ashamed... I am not getting what are you saying...." Mr. Hassan rose from his seat. It's the first time, he saw Mr. Zeb getting that much furious, and that too on himself. It's surprising for Hassan.

The lover even expressed mild regret that Conrad, the ‘annoying baggage’, had survived. Charlie’s mother, though shocked, did not confront her lover directly. She even helped manage the aftermath, only lightly forbidding him from harming Conrad further. Conrad knew that the cruel man would show no mercy and that his mother could not truly protect him. After deliberately enduring a three-day fever soaked in cold baths, the former top student of the Boyds became a seemingly mad little boy, scattering food with every meal. For fifteen years, he feigned madness. He understood all too well: with only the fragmented conversations he overheard as a child, without concrete evidence, he could never e

Mad was extremely impressed. “Okay.” He accepted. “Hah~ fine. Do you want me to withdraw my shield, don't you?” Mad nodded. “But, we will get exposed to the explosion as well.” “I know,” Mad said animatedly, with zero worries. “But you can do this, right?” He proceeded to whisper next to the man. “Oh ah! I can…” Again, revelation dawned on him. “How could I not think about it?” “Tsk, because you guys are lame. Think outside the box, man.” He slapped Hadi’s head. “Do it now.”

His face was pale, but he worked hard to maintain the grim, stoic expression of a 'disabled hero. "Ms. Cole, tell us—what exactly happened in the high-infection zone? Why did Captain Kane suddenly detonate a concussion grenade?" A reporter in the camp commander's pocket asked the question, delivering the question loudly and exactly as scripted. The instant Jasmine heard my name, she began to shake. A raw, piercing sob tore from her throat, as if she were reliving unspeakable terror and humiliation.

But I found nothing. Dejected, I went to the corkboard to see if I could glean any information from it, but it looked like the ravings of a madman. There were words that stood out like "holy maiden" and "werewolf" and I came to the conclusion that the man was having a psychotic break. And for some reason I was at the center of it.

He looked up and Harper followed his line of vision, only to see a jet black cat sleeping soundly at the top of an old cabinet. "And no, there are no other members. I prefer to work in solitude." "You can't continue alone or the club will crumble and what did you say? I'm highly dangerous?" Harper chuckled and could not believe his words. She put her arms and leaned on the table, glaring at the man in front of him. "Yes, I am a bit insane but not dangerous. Madness is the right term but it's not the bad type of madness, what I have is genius madness!" She declared, her head held high as she extends her arms sideward like some glorious hero.

"There's a chance that maybe he let himself be caught that easily." Mad softly laughed. "It wasn't easy." I shook my head, grunting. "I know, but— I just know him. Why would he jump into the tiger's den if there's a huge chance that he'll get slaughtered?" "Because he's dumb?" Mad said, this time, her voice was in confusion. "And for what reason he wanted to get caught?" "I-I don't know."

* “You think you’re the center. You think you hold them together. But what happens when they realize you’re just pretending? That you’re the weakest link?” The reflections stepped forward, hundreds of versions of me, each whispering, laughing, screaming. My rhythm faltered. I pressed my hands over my ears, but the voices didn’t stop. They were inside me. --- Later, Madison told me she faced something else. She stood in a room where every shadow belonged to her, but none obeyed. They writhed and twisted, strangling everything they touched. Every time she tried to shape them, they laughed. Her voice in her own tone, mocking her: *You’re just like him. You’re Elias. Every wall you raise becomes

My hands clenched into fists as I remembered the details of my past. This time, I didn't plan on submitting my patent. Instead, I arrived at a nearby pigsty, pulled out the manuscript, and tossed it in. My hard work got mixed in with pig slop and eaten by the pigs. For once, I actually felt a sense of satisfaction. Now that I had been reborn, I wasn't about to let history repeat itself. I couldn't wait to see how they were going to accuse me of stealing this time now that the evidence had been destroyed.

Two weeks after Marcus's execution, the first wolf went mad. His name was Torren, a middle-aged male from the Eastern territories who'd carried one of my fragments. He'd been normal, functioning, grateful for his salvation. Then one morning, he woke screaming about voices in his head, clawing at his own skin, claiming something dark was growing inside him.