The Thorn That Pierces Me Novels & Stories

He laughed sinisterly, making me shake in fear. “I… I… please let me go,” I pleaded, but my plea seemed to have gone on deaf ears because the next thing I saw was his foot aiming at my rib cage. I widened my eyes, as my body grew motionless, unable to avoid his feet. As soon as his feet collided with my rib cage, I spurted out blood while screaming in pain. In my hazy mind, I heard him laugh sinisterly and soon, I felt more of the pain on different parts of my body. I closed my eyes, thinking back to the beatings that were inflicted on me, both at my home and at school. If anything, this current beating was worse than both combined. I closed my eyes and felt like giving up. Just before I bla

But as Thorn’s laugh echoed through the cave, I knew it was too late. I kept my movements slow, my fingers sore from rubbing the ropes against the sharp rock. The pain was unbearable, but I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. Every time I thought I might be close to breaking free, every time I tried to put more pressure on the ropes, the sharp pain from my wound pulled me back to reality. I could feel blood trickling down my side, soaking into my clothes, but I refused to give up. I couldn’t. Thorn’s mocking voice echoed through the cave, breaking through my thoughts. He paced again, each step measured, deliberate, like a predator waiting for its prey to slip.

*Thorn* The pain is a dull throb now, a background noise that blends with the harsh fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. I’m slumped in the chair, my body a marionette with severed strings, barely hanging on to consciousness. I can feel the bruises blooming across my skin, each one a testament to their cruelty. I know they’ll keep coming, keep pushing, until I’m nothing but a broken shell. But I will keep fighting, and keep my mouth shut. I can handle pain, I am used to pain… probably more than anyone else realises.

“I am the gravity that holds your light in place. Without me, Winnie, you are just a flare in the void, burning out until there is nothing left but ash.” ​I felt a sharp, cold sting in my chest. I looked down and saw thin violet threads weaving through the golden patterns on my forearms. They weren’t attacking; they were integrating. My skin felt like it was being stitched together by ice. ​“Winnie, don’t let her in!” Thorne’s voice reached me from the perimeter of the room. I could see him through the haze, a silhouette of desperation. He was hacking at the rising obsidian thorns that were encasing the central pedestal, his vibro-blade throwing blue sparks against the impenetrable black gla

Human. Now I wake up wet from dreams I didn’t have. Bite marks on my neck. Moans caught in my throat. Static in my ears. I flinch at mirrors. I glow when the moon’s full. And every time one of them looks at me — really looks at me — I feel the thorns growing again. They don’t touch me gently. They don’t ask for permission. They take. They bite. They bury themselves in the cracks I didn’t know I left open.

"Soccer must keep you in excellent shape. It’s almost a shame I have to break you." He pushed one finger in, then two, his movements clinical yet ruthless. I buried my face in my arms, moaning into the sleeve of my hoodie as he prepared me. The friction was intense, the sensation of being opened up by a man I both feared and worshipped sending white-hot sparks through my brain. "I... I want it," I sobbed. "I want you to break me." "Oh, I’m going to do much more than that," Thorne said. He withdrew his fingers, and for a moment, the absence felt like a void. Then I felt the tip of him, hot and massive, pressing against me.

Then the thorn cut me, and the illusion shattered. "Damn you !" I called out. With anger and determination, I ran towards the clump of thorns, trying to squeeze my way through, to go back out. I don't want to do this, I don't want to be here. The thorns cut through my skin, the cut burning as hot silver seared into my veins. I hissed but didn't stop. I pushed through, feeling the vines tighten around me, squeezing me. I grabbed a fist full of vines and pulled angrily. My entire body was on fire, screaming at me to stop but I couldn't. The stench of blood mixed with burning flesh and flower filled the tight space, making my throat tighten.

That day happened to be the full moon and that night, the moon had turned red because of the blood that was shed on that day. To worsen it, Thorne bore the consequences of that disobedience because the scars he had that day never healed. It would always reopen on every full moon, causing him so much immense pain that no one dared near his chambers except for me—My presence gave him some sort of relief even though it did little to alleviate his pain. Knowing that he would be going through that again broke me apart. Thorne wiped away the tears that streamed down my face. “That pain will only last for a night but right now, my focus is on you because I can’t get enough of you. Right now, I want

“Whatever hunts her knows exactly who she is. And it will not stop until she is claimed.. or destroyed.” The forest seemed to breathe with those words. Thorne gestured to the path ahead. “Come. The night listens.” We walked on, the air colder now, heavier. My thoughts spiraled, questions gnawing like teeth. Lunaborn. Seal. Parents I never knew. None of it made sense, and yet… somewhere deep, something inside me stirred, like a locked door rattling on its hinges. As we neared the edge of the woods, a sharp sting cut across my palm. I hissed and looked down. A thorn had pricked me.. though no bush stood near. My blood slowly dripped down like a little tap.

I made a mistake by bending down to remove it and my hand got stuck in the thorns as well I gave a loud heart piercing scream. Only the owls of the night responded by giving an angry hoot. My voice must have disturbed their night's rest. The moon was not fully out and I could barely see where I was going. All I know is that I must have gone half way through the thorn bed. This is just crazy, I can't go back now, it would be useless. “Just a few more steps.” I encouraged myself I cried as I forcefully raised my leg and still placed it on another thorn flower just to move forward.