The Deserted Woman Novels & Stories

Perhaps it's just an opportunity to relax. Zara's grip tightened as she shook her head. "In this desert, nothing is ever what it seems." The Oasis's Real Nature The murmurs became more forceful, their tone changing from calming to authoritative. As the water rippled, a face started to appear on its surface—a woman with eyes that gleamed like molten gold and remarkable, unearthly features. The figure's voice echoed in the silent air as she murmured, "You resist me." However, why? Have you not endured enough pain? I can take away your worries and soothe your suffering. All you need to do is give up.

, I’m almost groaning. "Don't get me wrong,” she says slowly, her gelatine-like eyes burned with sincerity as she gazed at me. “There is a beauty in your rebellious spirit and all. Your defiance of women's place in our New Eden. And I admire that. But let's be real, Amber. It's a beauty that women in our position can't afford. Your defiance ain't going to get you anywhere, sweetheart. It’s just a slow, painful sucide," she said

I am still Gracias. But I am no longer the scorned wife. I am no longer the betrayed sister. I am a stranger. With a stranger. In a place where perhaps nothing matters anymore but the present moment. And this man's gaze resting on me, for once, does not hurt.

But neither did I retreat. "I'm just saying," I muttered instead, not in the mood to argue with him. I pushed past him, "if she's half as deadly as she's classy, we're all fucked. "And if you mess this up," he bellowed after me, "you'll be the one to ruin the last hope this company has." I didn't answer him. But I knew what I saw in that woman's eyes, and it wasn't just “intelligence”. It was a calculating edge. And something colder.

The idea that a cop was already involved and on their way to rescue her never even crossed his mind. The van finally pulled into a derelict industrial park, the tires crunching over broken glass and gravel. Lizbeth and Ghost led Megan, still in the suffocating sack, into a cavernous, half-finished warehouse. It was cold and smelled of damp concrete. Megan was unceremoniously dumped on the floor. As Ghost zipped open the sack, Megan squinted in the dim light, her eyes adjusting to the faces of her captors. Lizbeth, her face a mask of triumphant fury, and Ghost, his expression unreadable, a silent and deadly automaton.

I shifted to him, hoping to get a good look. In the picture, there was a withered woman lying down on a bed, looking more like a skeleton than a person. Her cheeks were sunken, and her eyes were lifeless. Around her head, dull and thinning brown hair fanned out against the stark white sheets, resembling thin dead worms. Even after everything . . . I still couldn't bring myself to mock her or the situation she was in. The cold hand of dread wrapped around my neck, squeezing and squeezing until I choked and gasped out the invisible stone lodged there.

“Cherry wants you to come along. She says that you not being here makes her feel like the other woman.” I clenched my jaw so hard it ached before managing to force out a smile. “Sure.”

he demands against her puffy mouth. “Nothing we’re not begging for,” Gabe pants to my left. He’s a goner, too, like Tobias. He’s blind to anything but the woman, his mind having been put in a new, different setting. Attuned only to Elise and her body. Her needs. All three of us resemble each other at this moment, our bodies stiff for her, desperate, primed. “Tobias,” she rasps, rolling her lower body sensually. “Please. Now.”

With closed eyes and heavy breaths, she eagerly awaited that first kiss, parting her lips to invite him in. Frustration consumed her as she still didn't feel his lips. She furrowed her brows in confusion and opened her eyes to an empty space . Disappointment flooding over her. It was just another hallucination, leaving her burning with unfulfilled desire. Slamming her hand onto the basin platform, she closed her eyes, attempting to regain composure. Anger surged within as she blamed herself for again thinking of him. Determined to break free from his hold, she glared at herself in the mirror. desperate to quell her insatiable desires she Fixed her hair and stormed out of the washroom, ready

Why had she not spoken? The only answer she could see was the woman’s change before her eyes. While she had been palpably suffering from abject sorrow just seconds ago, something had displaced it. Despair was oozing from her every pore. The woman had suddenly grown numb. Mercedes was at a loss for words. A while later, Deirdre finally spoke. “Please take me back to my cell.” “Back? Back there?” Mercedes parroted her request, sounding stunned. “B-But your eyes!”