Raise Hell Dorothy Novels & Stories

The soldiers standing by the door stared awkwardly, dared not to stop her. Darryl was stunned upon seeing Princess Dorothy. 'What's going on?' He thought. "Darryl Darby!" Princess Dorothy slammed the door shut and walked straight towards Darryl. "What the h*ll is going on?" She spat coldly with a sword in her hands. "If you don't spit the truth now, I'll destroy your fairy soul and make sure you rot in hell without the chance of being reborn ever again!" Her impeccable face was painted with murder, her eyes filled with hatred and doubt.

Just as I stepped out of the office, someone rushed toward me and blocked my path. Dorothy stood there with white, messy hair and disheveled clothes. She looked like a beggar. She lunged forward as if to grab me and rasped, "Heather!" I stepped back, and the security guards immediately moved to restrain her. "Please save Norman! I'm begging you!" she wailed, dropping to her knees. "He knows that he's made a mistake. You can't just do nothing and watch him suffer in there!"

Finally, with a deep sigh, she looked at Sophia with dark eyes and replied: “I think they killed her. Something terrible has happened.” Dorothy’s words made Sophia shudder. “Jesus. Why do you think that? You can’t be sure.” Dorothy sighed, her shoulders tense, as she searched for words to explain: “Because no one has ever made it out alive. This place has a dark secret that everyone wants to hide.” Sophia looked towards the hospital exit, where a ray of sunshine broke through the dark clouds. “I hope she’s the first to defy that fate.” Dorothy shook her head skeptically, but her eyes reflected a glimmer of hope. “She won’t help us, Sophia. Don’t hope.”

Helen's eyes widened in shock. Wait, was Dorothy talking about Carissa? Was Dorothy referring to Helen's daughter-in-law, the one who had always protected her before even officially joining the family? With a loud crash, Helen's cup shattered on the floor, porcelain shards scattering as she shouted, "Old hag! Don't force me to slap your face myself!" That move left everyone in the room stunned into silence. Even Dorothy was taken aback, her eyes wide with disbelief as she stared at Helen. How could Helen be so indifferent to propriety?

It was like a perfume made of different kinds of flowers’ serums. “So dramatic!” Kate who just passed by rolled her eyes. She was holding Dorothy’s hand while walking. The latter directed her camera at us. She was taking a video of us. “Gold digger Amara Beltran and witch, curse, and mentally ill Serra Hilario on your screen, everyone.” Dorothy brought her fingers inches away from her lips and gigled mockingly. She wasn’t contented and approached us. She snatched the sketchpad out of Amara’s grasp.

"What else could I do? I just want her dead!" An even louder commotion erupted outside. Anthony bolted from the room in panic. On the ceremony stage, a middle-aged woman shrieked curses. "Filthy whore!" "Homewrecking slut!" Beneath her, Sienna was being slapped over and over again. Sienna's mother, Jenny Rowland, was too fierce. The security guards froze, unsure what to do. Sienna's face was covered in red handprints. Her graduation gown had been torn, revealing the outfit from the photo she'd sent Anthony just days ago.

Everyone cursed at me and wanted me dead. On the day of the trial, the furious families broke through the bailiffs, and a bottle of sulfuric acid was hurled at me. I collapsed on the floor as the acid splashed on me, screaming and rolling until the pain eventually killed me. Only then did I realize it had all been a plan to get rid of me. Danny did not care whether I lived or died. He had run to comfort the shaken Ruby instead. "Don't be scared. She deserved all of this."

The morning light stabbing through Deja's curtains felt like personal violence. She groaned, rolled over, and immediately regretted the movement as her brain sloshed painfully against her skull. Memories from last night flickered across her consciousness like a traumatic slideshow: the dress, the gala, challenging some old businessman to a dance-off, being carried into the house by Ren... "Oh no," she croaked, voice scratchy like she'd been chain-smoking gravel. "Oh hell no."

Intrigued, I can't help but turn back to the picture as he continues speaking. "She was a communist throughout her life and quite politically active. In the 1970s her work was heralded again, more than twenty years after her death, as being a motivation for women in the feminist movement. The painting you're admiring was a gift for the mother of the actress, Dorothy Hale, who committed suicide exactly as depicted in the painting. As you can imagine, it was not well-accepted." My immediate thought: Dorothy's poor mother. As I continue examining the details, I recognize the pain. Even more disturbed now, I turn away and face Gomez, the thug art critic.

She asked him. "Haylee,the so called Sheila's mom, she's not her mother," he said and Kylie stared at him in shock. "She's just an harlot in need of money and I paid her to do this. I found out Leo came to her and she was planning to call Leo to ask him for forty million dollars to expose me and I killed the bitch." He said smiling. "You're a monster." She said hating herself for ever meeting him in her life. "Yes. A monster, you'll spend the rest of your life with." He said dragging her out of warehouse. Just then gunshots were heard and Rex men fell one after the other and there was no sign of the killer.