Woke Up And Chose Violence Romane & Geschichten

He would do something, if only to be different, surely. But I was disappointed when he wouldn't even meet my eyes. He looked anywhere but me. He was a coward just like the rest of them. I was wrong when I thought he was different. It grated on me that I felt disappointed by that. Then I decided that if no one is going to help that guy then I am going to do it, I don't care about the consequences, these people need to learn that it's not wrong to answer violence with violence.

I kicked him hard in his most vulnerable area, causing him to groan in agony. "Fuck, you bitch! I'm gonna kill you!" "Like hell, you will. I'll send you straight to Jesus myself!" I yelled kicking him back in the nuts again. Something caught my eyes, the gun. I took the gun from him and used the butt of the weapon to strike him across the face, blood streaming from his nose. The man lay unconscious on the floor, and I felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins. I had never imagined myself capable of such violence, but in that moment, it was a matter of survival.

I’m going to live the life you thought you were giving me, while you rot in hell. Black spots danced across my vision. The fire in my chest was turning into an icy vacuum, pulling my soul toward the floor. I could hear Marcus laughing in the distance, oblivious to the fact that his world was ending twenty feet away. I forced my eyes to stay open, forced my shattered nervous system to give me one last surge of defiance. I reached out, my fingers catching the hem of her dress, staining the bright yellow fabric with the dark smudge of my desperation. "Lurii," I rasped, the words tasting like copper and bile. My voice was a ghostly shadow of itself, but the promise behind it was absolute.

I balled my hands into fists as one began to advance on me, and for the first time in what felt like years, I took pleasure in throwing the first punch, as I heard a sound that sounded like a cracked nose, I smiled to myself happily. "devil's spurn." one of the other men crooned and advanced toward me. I ducked so that he only reached for air, and then killed him in his balls. He screeched like a girl and his knees buckled and I wondered who it was that said that violence was never the best option. It certainly was, when you needed to defend yourself.

“Not always. I have lost her before.” “Then don’t lose her again.” Her words struck something deep enough to hurt. Slowly—very slowly—I felt the rage shift inside me. It didn’t fade. It condensed, sharpening into something cold and lethal. Something useful. Violence without direction is destruction. Violence with purpose is war. And I was choosing war. I walked past Gina, down the hall, toward the doors that led outside. The night air hit me like a knife when I opened them. Frost coated the grass. The forest breath held still.

I sank my teeth into the side of his neck ripping out his throat. Warm, thick blood coated my muzzle and I dropped the sinewy strings of flesh and muscle from my jaws. Yes, I was hungry, but in truth, human meat tasted nasty, and the pain in my broken leg was torturous. I'd fed my hunger for violence and now I needed to get away. I gazed at the boy lying passed out on the ground and turned my eyes to the unconscious man in the street. He'd kill the kid. Decisions.

“Is it? I still came ready to pay extortion. Still played by his rules. Still let fear drive my choices.” “You protected our family. That’s not wrong.” “Isn’t it? I spent months telling kids at the youth center that violence isn’t the answer. That there’s always another way. And the first time I’m really tested, I fall right back into old patterns.” “You didn’t—” “I did. And Viktor saw it. That’s why he walked away. Because he proved his point. I’m still the same person I always was. Just with better PR.” He dropped the bags. Walked to the bedroom.

I can still see the blood flowing from his wound, and it makes my stomach turn. I try to stand up, but my legs feel like jelly. I'm shaking all over, and I can't catch my breath. I'm hyperventilating, and I know I need to calm down. But how can I calm down when I'm trapped in this tiny room with no way out? I look around the bathroom, searching for an escape. But there's none. The door is locked, and the window is too high to reach. I'm trapped. I think about what just happened. I shot Victor. I actually pulled the trigger and shot him. I can't believe it. I've never been violent before, but something snapped inside me. I couldn't take his abuse anymore.

I used to be the cockiest rich kid in high society, but somehow I became the biggest simp in the whole circle. It was all because I was bound to a heroine conquest system. If I failed, I would be finished. To stay alive, I had no choice but to do everything Samantha said and constantly try to please her. Knowing I could give her anything she wanted, she took the sports car I gave her and went for a drive with her childhood friend, Charles Lindsey. Then she left me alone on the highway in the middle of a violent storm. "Samantha, my asthma is acting up. My medicine is in the car. Can you come back and get me?" She gave a cold, mocking laugh. I could also hear Charles laughing on the phone. "W

" I sense trouble looming in the air." " We landed ourselves in this trouble, you say. " He paused and took a deep breath. Then, he raised the face of violence. Taking a bottle of cool beer from his table, he poured down some of the contents into his belly. Then, with one look, he launched the bottle on the head of his newly made adversary. The noise of shattering glass resounded through the whole place in the midst of the calm followed by a grievous shout of cry by the victim of the violence. The surprise hit everyone.