Vocaloid Insanity Novels & Stories

He is crazy about Heer, he does not feel ashamed at all for doing such a thing, but is proud of him. This is a slightly shocking case, but a matter of extreme frightening. More dangerous than an angry person is the passion of a crazy person. And now Heer has understood that Sanam's obsession speaks on his head. This passion of Sanam has kept him under his control.

His voice sounded low and suppressed, almost maniacal. Seeing him like this, her face went pale as she spoke in a dazed voice. "You're insane. Completely insane!"

I stood up and found my way back to the bedroom to rest while his heart and logic battle. Voice one: what are you doing here? To sleep. Voice two: sleep? Cookie, sleep in such a time? He's not deciding, so I will enjoy my sleep while he contemplates. Voice one: are you yet to comprehend what I meant when I made the statement, "we got trapped in the mind of a madwoman"? I've been insane for as long as I remember, what's new? Voice one: can you listen to reason and go back to that…

"You don't control who or what I am." She laughs then—a profoundly disturbing sound that's not remotely human. Not even close to anything recognizable. It's guttural, echoing, multi-layered like a chorus of malevolent voices. Her voice fractures into impossible harmonics, like there's more than one entity speaking simultaneously from within her slender frame. "I'll crush your pathetic resistance like an insect beneath my heel," she snarls with terrifying conviction. "I'll systematically bury your insignificant soul so impossibly deep that you'll completely forget you ever existed in the first place."

My Not Sister Hiro I’m crazy. I know I’m crazy. Everyone knows I’m Crazy Zen—and not in the chill, meditative, herb-sipping way. Insightful as my brain forces me to be—in the most disturbing, inappropriate, and irrelevant ways—social awareness and cultural norms didn’t exactly get installed during the reboot. I’m fine with it. I really am. At least I really was before this.

His voice cracked with insanity, the madness threatening to consume him entirely. The room was charged with a tension so thick it felt as if the walls might collapse. The struggle between obsession, frustration, and an overwhelming need for control was about to reach its breaking point.

Aunt Kay says. “Oh great,” I murmur. Instantly, Iniko’s smile fades. “Are you unhappy that you’re mated to me?” I don’t need a dragon’s advance hearing or animal instincts or to hear the hurt in his tone. “No, it’s not that,” I begin, reaching out to touch his arm. I clench my teeth shut as my stupid dragon tries to purr again. “Let me guess, your dragon is very happy that you’ve found your mate, and is trying to vocalize that but you’re not quite there yet. Is that about right?” Avani asks.

Diana explained before grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the restroom. Her tone shifted completely the moment we stepped inside. "Ugh, why do you look so old, Laura? You're only in your 20s, but you look like some wrinkled old woman in her 40s or 50s. You're so disgusting." I forced a smile and replied, "You look so much younger now, Diana. Henry must've treated you well." Diana's expression darkened instantly as she leaned in close to my face. "Henry still thinks that I'm you! Do you have any idea how disgusting it is having to listen to him call me by your name? He's mine! So why is he still calling your name?"

(Juniper’s P.O.V) 4 years later: Walking through the halls of my high school, I keep my head down and try and make myself as small as possible. I don’t feel like dealing with people today, not that I ever feel like dealing with people. Particularly teenagers, especially THESE teenagers. After the rogue attack and waking up in the hospital after spending two weeks in a coma, I woke up sounding like I smoked 5 packs a day. All of the doctors my parents had taken me to, all said the same thing, that I would never get my voice back. Even talking with Fae healers, spell casters, and elves nothing could be done. No one could regenerate the cells of the body to fix this, no one had that type of mag

One hit, and I’m back to original manufacturer settings, wondering who I am and why my cheeks feel like they’ve been kissed by a brick. “Get back to your senses, you pathetic, hollow, brain-dead waste of space. A useless, shivering, white-skinned animal with the personality of a damp carpet and the spine of a jellyfish. You’re an annoying, taintless, blood-feeding parasite who brings nothing to the table but noise and disappointment. You’re a walking, non-breathing mistake, a loud-mouthed, empty-headed clown who couldn’t find his own reflection in a mirror. You are a disgusting, entitled, low-tier glitch in the system, a non-sweaty, unwashed excuse for an animal who makes anyone in a room wi