Wreaking Havoc Novels & Stories

I put a a frown on my face. Feeling a sudden nausea, when I saw a scene of two people flocking theirselves together intimately, my head felt like a cracking shell that it hurts so much after seeing a blurred scene that I couldn't remember. So, I tried pressing my eyes tight. What I knew was, it was one of the things I knew but I couldn't remembered and it was kinda frustrating. I don't know where am I either. "What the-" A curse almost escape my lips when my peace of mind crumbled from the tingling noise of something crashing. It came from the door so I threw a glance over and meet a two pair of pretty eyes, moist and longing for something.

I run at him at full speed. “Oh no you don’t, Fucker,” I shout as I barrel into him. The momentum of my speed slams him into the wall of the stage, wood splinters and metal screeches as I push through the structure, using his body. Pain radiates from my wrists and I'm pretty sure I've broken them but I continue to push until I've nearly ripped a path through the middle of the stage. Warm liquid splatters over my face, blinding me as it covers my eyes. I wipe my face with the sleeve of my jacket and blink until I can see again. My sleeve is smeared with red and I look up to see a horrifying yet highly pleasing sight.

Somewhere deep in the fractured ruins of his mind, something small and desperate screamed. But he couldn't hear it anymore. The breaking was complete.

But he never stopped, he never listened and he didn’t care about anything that I had to say anymore. I became insignificant I became a burden I became a liability And of course Dylan followed in his footsteps, becoming a dark and corrupted soul as well. I don’t know why, or how this happened. What changed? Why would two people with such great lives and promising futures throw everything that they have away? Why would they risk their lives by taking others over and over again? What do they gain from creating such chaos?? What do they gain by murdering others? By ruining lives? By destroying families? Why would anyone ever be okay living in such a manner?

“Did you really think I wouldn’t use this opportunity? Now, Victor has no choice but to come to me.” Panic clawed at her chest. Victor would come. And he would kill for her. But how many would die in the process? Marco brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch sickeningly gentle. “You wanted peace, dear. But I’m afraid all you’ve done… is start a war.” Her heart pounded as she realized…. She had made everything worse. Gunfire erupted in the warehouse, each shot echoing like thunder. Olivia gasped as the loud noise rang in her ears, her heart thundering against her ribs. The scent of blood and gunpowder filled the air, making it hard to breathe.

His once-controlled anger now explodes within him as he unleashes his frustration on his possessions. He begins breaking things, his actions fueled by a volatile mix of rage, hurt, and desperation. Screams escape his lips, his eyes bloodshot with anger, as he finds temporary solace in the destruction around him. His mind is consumed by thoughts of deep hurt and betrayal, the pain driving him to the edge of his sanity.

The photo fluttered to the floor, the edges torn, the image of us now marred by the jagged lines of the broken frame. "Fuck!" I roared, my voice raw, my hands curling into fists again. I grabbed the nearest object… a heavy crystal paperweight, and sent it flying across the room. It hit the bookshelf with a thud, sending books and knickknacks raining down, the noise a cacophony of chaos that matched the storm inside me. "Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!" I swept my arm across the desk, sending pens, papers, my laptop crashing to the floor. The laptop screen cracked, the sound a sharp pop that made my teeth clench. I didn’t care. I wanted the destruction. I needed it.

With each destructive act, a primal roar escaped his lips, reverberating through the chaos he had unleashed, a wild cry of defiance against a world that seemed determined to crush him. Despite the knowledge that he would have to pay for the damages, Malta's hands continued to wreak havoc without restraint, fueled by a potent cocktail of anger, frustration, and sorrow. The once opulent room now resembled a war zone, a battlefield where Malta fought an invisible enemy, his inner demons made manifest in the destruction surrounding him. And still, he raged on, his mind consumed by a maelstrom of emotions that threatened to engulf him. ************

My business, my marriage, my life—everything is in ruins. The weight of it all presses down on me, and something inside snaps. I stand abruptly, grabbing the first object within reach—a glass paperweight—and hurl it across the room. It shatters against the wall, a thousand pieces scattering across the floor. The release of anger feels momentarily satisfying, but the crushing reality soon returns. I swipe my arm across my desk, sending papers, books, and my laptop crashing to the floor. The noise is deafening, a physical manifestation of the chaos inside me. I continue to smash and destroy everything within reach, each crash and clatter echoing the turmoil in my mind.

The suffering I had, and the pain in his eyes. No matter how much I tried to avoid it, I know in myself that I can't. I am deeply hurt. I don't want to let him go, but I think it's the best way. I was so pressured on making changes that I made decisions without thinking about it deeply. I acted so carelessly that I forgot about the consequences I might face. In the end, it just broke me, again.