Violence Of Mind Novels & Stories

My psycho kill switch is well and truly flicked. I just see that bastard holding her throat in my mind’s eye, and start punching and kicking fluidly. Feeling nothing of his return defense moves, or his attempts to fight back as my instincts kick in and go into automatic maneuvers and skill. I want to pound him into the fucking ground, stamp his skull into a thousand tiny pieces and paint the floor red with his fucking blood. No one in the universe has a right to lay hands on her against her will, and even though this started as a jealous rage, it’s now an all-consuming black hole of hatred for a guy who would hurt her. I’ve never felt this kind of longing for sheer violence and fire inside o

WARNING SIGNS: LANGUAGE THAT IS UNAMBIGUOUS CURSING VIOLENCE, GUN VIOLENCE SELF-INFLICTED HARM BLOOD, DECEASE, and GORE VALENTINA’s POV I gripped the razor-sharp blade firmly. I paid no attention to how deeply the blade sliced into the flesh of my palm. My crimson blood that spilled out and stained the floor beneath went unnoticed by me. I felt relieved. Experiencing physical pain in my body was a wonderful diversion from the mental anguish that plagued me.

The expensive carpet beneath our feet grows dark with droplets that mark each exchange of violence like some primitive ritual. This isn't the choreographed combat of movies, all graceful moves and witty one-liners. This is desperate and ugly and exhausting— the kind of fighting that leaves permanent damage to both body and soul. The kind where both men understand that only one is walking away whole. Viktor's training shows in flashes— military combat moves mixed with boxing fundamentals, the expensive education that money can buy. But there's no heart in his violence, no deeper purpose beyond inflicting damage. I fight like a man with his soul on the line. My woman is cowered in the corner,

A hasty sweep of the rooms revealed that his mates had already passed through, and they had been both thorough and vicious in fulfilling their mission. “Fuck,” he ran his hands through his hair, before heading to the internal door that led into the original church. There were different levels of violence, and whilst he was not averse to employing violence, understanding that in war there was kill or be killed, the Triquetra had displayed an enjoyment in causing pain to those they fed in that worried him. If it hadn’t been for that violent tendency, he might have been less disturbed by the gore that Aislen and Heath had left behind, but on the back of it… it worried him. It was possible for a

He asked with a twinkle in his eye. "Hmm let me think.." I said and making a fake expression of being in deep thought. I saw him look a little worried. Hmm.. didn't know I was that good of an actress. Maybe I should even get a part in a TV show. I am sort of obsessed with vampire shows. It's a good thing we don't need to be invited into a house to come in. And yes... we do have super strength and can compel people. But only in emergencies. If we compel the same person many times, he or she will eventually go crazy because their subconscious mind tends to fight against the memory alterations . The mind can't handle that much of internal fighting . Worst case scenario , the victim could kill t

I retorted with no intention of backing down, although I really have no idea why it had become such a big deal to me, “this is a world where you have to kill to survive. It’s not much of a leap from using violence to get the things you need, to using violence to get the things you want. And for a lot of men, one of those ‘things’ is women. Why not? What’s anyone going to do about it? Call the police?” The other three were now standing around us, looking a bit miffed by the conversation they’d walked into. “So you’re saying I should watch out for all guys, including the three of you? Once you get used to using violence to kill small animals, you might decide to use it to get some action in th

God, I hate him, I fucking hate how perfect this is, my mind fired off frantically, my thoughts a chaotic, blurred mess of pure overstimulation. Vincent is a ruthless, toxic, dominant monster. He’s deliberately trying to make me lose my mind forty thousand feet in the sky, showing me exactly who has the real authority between us. Look at how he’s pounding me like I’m nothing but an object for his pleasure, and I'm lying here screaming his name like a pathetic, desperate slut. You absolute bastard, Vincent. Fuck me harder. "Vincent... please... I'm winding up... I'm right there again," I panted, my hands flying to his chest, pushing against him weakly before pulling him back down by his open

She’s crying and screaming at the same time. “You can have the food!” She says. Maybe bargaining isn’t going to stop the madman from beating the shit out of her? But at least she’s trying to reason with him. I know for sure though that once he chooses to use violence, there’s no reasoning with that man. His face literally turns a shade of red, he gets this crazed look where his eyes bulge and if it’s possible; he has this manic glint in his eyes that I can only characterize as evil.

"I might get mad but I won't get violent. I won't ever do that," Raphael said immediately, "In the civilized world, what my brothers can't seem to understand is that, violence is messy, inefficient, and highly illogical. It ruins business, and it creates problems that take too much time to fix. If someone angers me at the office, I use my brain to crush them financially or professionally. I do not use my hands." A small, playful smile crept onto my face inside my helmet. I couldn't help myself. I wanted to pester him. I wanted to see if I could find a single crack in his perfection.

He begs “Shh.”I say as I tilt my head. “Don’t say my name. You don’t earn that.”I say as My fist meets his jaw again, and this time he goes limp. Finally unconscious and I stare at him for several seconds, chest heaving not from exhaustion, but because beating him wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough, Violence never fills me; it only spreads, expands and breathes. it turns and spread into something slow, invasive, hungry. It expands through my ribs like smoke, curls around my spine, settles behind my teeth. It breathes, It waits and It wants.