Novel & Cerita Violence Of Mind

Or as safe as this place can be for me. I’m probably just being weak-willed with all this talk of fighting and killing, anyway and my body needs to learn it can’t have everything it desires as there are more important things than physical pleasure. Yet, I keep going back to how unhappy the thought of violence towards Cedric makes me feel.

’ The voice jeers me once more. My fists fold, nails drawing blood. My own mind was f**king with me. I wished I could hold the bastard and smash his face in for ever uttering those vile words. But everything was happeneing inside my head. Damn I’m going crazy one little minute at a time. ‘You won’t touch her.’ Cackled laughter sounds in my head, thunderous and dark. It’s menacing to think that something this dangerous could literally come from inside me. ‘You can not stop me.’

I said, “I’m talking evolution. Guns and knives, they’re easy. Any idiot can pull a trigger. But I can dismantle a man without ever spilling blood. I can starve him out, burn his money, chain his own crew against him until he begs me to end it.” Vincenzo stared at me, unblinking, as if I was being ridiculous. “I swore to her I wouldn’t kill again,” I said, the cigarette glowing as I inhaled, “But that doesn’t mean I won’t ruin people. It doesn’t mean I won’t make them suffer. If anything, it means I’ll get more creative. And creativity, Vince, that’s something this city should be very fucking afraid of.” “Creativity?” he scoffed, “And when someone puts a gun to your head? When they put a kni

I actually thought about it now, before I spoke. “Do I think Ryan wants to kill me?” I repeated, my voice trembling, barely above a whisper. I shook my head. “No. I don’t think he actually wants to kill me. Not now, anyway....” The words hung between us. I drew in a shaky breath and continued, “But do I think he’s violent? Yes.” I felt my throat tighten as I tried to explain, the memory of his hands on me still too fresh. “I am beginning to think that whenever things don’t go his way, he uses force to get it. Which means…I think he’s violent and might do something worse without meaning to.”

Pain flashes white-hot this time, but I ignore it. I grab the shooter by the collar and slam his face repeatedly into the wall until his skull caves enough to stop resisting. My breathing grows heavier, and my vision is sharper. Violence always makes the world simple to me. As I move, my father’s words replay in my head. Kill. Move. Destroy. Repeat. A body crashes into me from behind suddenly, and I hit the floor hard. The attacker tries pinning my arm, but I drive my head into his nose hard enough to break it instantly.

Each bruise and cut a testament to the violence I unleashed. With each reflection I passed, the severity of my condition became more apparent. The swelling around my eye was turning into a dark, angry purple, the cut on my lip a stark contrast against my skin. These reflections were a harsh reminder of the path I had chosen, a path marked by violence and a desperate attempt to escape my thoughts.

All this has opened my eyes and a lightbulb flickers on. Physical exertion in different forms to handle different emotions. Logical ones. Sex for stress, sexual cruelty for anger or pain. Violence for rage … it’s finally making sense. There’s logic to him even if it’s not normal male logic, there is a pattern which means there’s a way to live with him and work this out.

Miranda requested that representatives from Aurora's family accompany her to her office to explain the severity of Aurora's trauma. "Please have a seat," Dr. Miranda kindly invited Hendrik and Andra to sit once they were inside her office. "Thank you, Doctor," Hendrik replied briefly, then took a seat in a chair opposite the young psychiatrist. "So, in cases of violence like what Miss Aurora experienced, it can cause the victim to suffer from depression. Violence against women, whether verbal, sexual, or physical, is not as easy to heal as physical injuries. It affects not only the body but also the psychological aspects of life," Dr. Miranda explained calmly.

I wanted to rip his chest wide open, crack his ribcage like an egg-shell and tear out his beating heart… The force of the violent images in my head confused me…scared me. What was wrong with me? Since when was I this kind of a person? Filled with so much anger and malice? Yes, Krimson has always tested my patience…but that had never manifested itself in such a manner… "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" I asked him.

The other half of my soul. Why had I done it? The question gnawed at me. I had never laid a hand on a woman before—never even considered it. Violence was for weak men, men who couldn’t control their impulses. And yet, in that moment of blinding fury, I had become exactly that.