Vicious Novels & Stories

In my mind, I was desperately cursing him, furious at how easily he could turn me into a begging mess with just a single touch. ‘You manipulative, arrogant bastard,’ I snarled in my head, even as my hands gripped his shoulders for support. ‘You sick, dominant devil. You absolute piece of garbage, knowing exactly what your touch does to me. You ruthless, insatiable monster, wrecking my mind until I can't even think straight. You toxic, controlling asshole, making me ache like a fucking addict for the very thing that ruins me.’ God, I couldn't stop cursing Vincent in my head. It's just crazy how this old man knows all my buttons and uses them against me in the most unhinged, devastating ways.

Why am I getting sentimental now? I bit my lip and before I could shove the sobs down my throat, my body sank to the floor and all the wailing I've been failing was cut loose. "Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!" I screamed and screamed and kept on screaming the agony that drowned my chest and flooded my eyes. Victor wasn't the greatest. He was evil, selfish, and greedy. He tried to kill me, had hurt me, and even went so far as to order rogues to get to me. I can spell a hundred more reasons to hate him.

"Feisty. Victor will like that." Victor. The Savage Kings president. Damien had warned me about him—sadistic, unpredictable, the kind of man who hurt people for entertainment. Terror gave me strength. I twisted, bringing my free leg up to connect with his groin. He grunted, grip loosening just enough for me to wrench away. I ran. Through the destroyed office, into the main clubhouse. Bodies everywhere—some moving, most not. Blood painted the walls in gruesome abstract patterns. My bare feet slipped in something wet I refused to identify.

Minus Viper’s lips formed a slight smile, but his eyes burned with anger. “I have to apologize. Clearly, I didn’t quite make the impression on you gentlemen that I had intended.” “Now, don’t be too sure about that,” I said. “If your intention was to show us that you’re a psychopath that mutilates his own people due to his own personal fuckups, then let me assure you, message received. Wouldn’t you say, Clutch?”

Vadim asked, placing his hands over the fire while the three vampires that tied Vincenzo stood beside the wooden beams. “I would die trying to deliver your head to Darius.” Vincenzo snarled, his voice filled with rage. Vadim snickered. Next to the fire was a wooden table with different weapons; axes, blades, daggers, and stakes. Vadim scoffed before he reached for an ax. He stepped toward him and struck the ax on Vincenzo's chest, breaking his ribs. He screamed and his voice echoed through the empty room while Vadim pulled the ax down to his stomach.

Thrust “I hurt my friends.” Thrust “I wreaked havoc.” Thrust “I wanted to burn everything down” Thrust “When you picked Guvaski over me” Thrust “Jesus Christ!! I wanted to commit murder.” Thrust “I wanted everyone to be hurt and feel my pain.” THRUST. The bed rams into the wall again. That will definitely leave a dent. I don’t care right now. I want all his anger, all his hate and bitterness. Everything. “And then you saunter back here”

That day Max died and Maxton Corvin was born. And the ashes of that hope was resurrected into something different, dangerous and evil. Revenge, the once innocent boy turned into a vengeance filled young man, he wanted to destroy everyone who had hurt him. His father, the people who mistreated him in his childhood, the mother who abandoned him and lastly, His big brother, Ace.

Beside him stood a quiet looking red haired boy with sharp cheekbones and piercing green eyes and full red lips. The last of the group was perhaps the most intimidating of all—a broad-shouldered guy with messy, dark brown hair and a chiseled jawline, his lips set in a near-permanent scowl. Their collective energy was magnetic, dangerous even, and they all looked at us as if they were sizing us up— “Those young men are known as the Vicious Boys.” Vincent’s voice interrupted my train of thoughts and I did not miss the warning in his voice. “You’d do well to stay away from them. They’ve earned their reputation.”

I said and he scoffed once again but this time he didn't try to defend himself. Looking at the last one in the room I took a deep breath. "Viha" I whispered while looking at Alaric. "Also known as wrath, known to show any form of anger sometimes even during a calm conversation, emotions tend to be intense" I said leaning forward a little as his eyes flashed a deep red.

“That rich prick gets everything. The money. The name. The power. While I get nothing but a needle and a high that burns out by morning.” His words hung heavy between us. The powder on the table looked sharp and white under the low light. My fingers itched to grab the glass again. Damn, just the reaction I was hoping for. The hate. We're definitely on the same page and he's were I needed him to be to move on with my plan. “You know… I’ve never really liked that son of a bitch,” Victor growled, slamming his glass on the table so hard my mind jumped. He was looking so damn serious now. The sound cracked loud. His eyes looked wild. Veins stood out on his neck.