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By: GHOSTWRITER OngoingFantasy

Language: English

Chapters: 10 views: 374

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Belladonna Carabell Brown is weird. She lives the life of a maniac and has powers she can't explain. Blood makes her happy. Killing fulfills her. Her life has been nothing but horror and sorrow. She doesn't believe in a happy ending. Does that even exist? What happens when Bella gets entangled with the same gender she loathes the most? A man who bears the name of her arch nemesis? What happens when the only feeling she hates experiencing becomes the only thing she gets to experience each time she encounters him? Her pussy pulsates, her body heats up and her wetness drips at a mere glance at him. Gosh, she hates the feeling but can her heart keep her away from the wants of her betraying body? Will she give in to her body's desire or allow her taste for blood to overcome her? Who is Bella? Is she truly human or is there a name for her? Who is the man? Is he really who he poses to be? Find out this and more in this thrilling suspense-filled novel.

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10 chapters
I walk through the old, gray, dark shallow hallway as the street lights flicker at intervals. There is something about the light that freaks me out. The ten or more of them shine out but each time I get under one it trips off.I glance up at them. Perhaps their wires are faulty but that will be so insane to think because they never are.I guess even the traffic lights are afraid of me. Not like I'm evil but then that's what people think of me as. "It's quite surprising and at the same time interesting how lights think I'm evil too now," I laugh even though it isn't supposed to be funny. But then again it is.A sudden scream echoes afar off— from a building meters away from me.It's like the scream of a man and a woman in a heated argument. But that of the woman is more. The shattering of things I can't ascertain follows and then the woman starts sobbing while the man starts screaming as if he is barking at a kid.A part of me wants to go see what might be making them quarrel at this t
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As I saw my mum and so-called dad, my dark eerie mind began to work; with each step they took toward me, my mind produced several thoughts.I knew my mum so well to believe some of the thoughts my mind produced. My mum will never believe that I killed my brother even if she saw me with a bleeding knife beside my brother's carcass.She will always think it an accident, one that I never got involved in. She thinks of me to be so innocent and naive. So dumb of her.She's just lucky I love her so much, if not she would have been long gone. She's just too much of a simp to live.I could hear their running steps drawing nearer and so I pretended to do what every kid my age would have done. I started yelling for help too.I knew my so-called dad will have something to murmur about if he got to the scene and saw me not screaming so I did not just want to give the impression that will prompt him to say anything. I hate hearing him speak. Everything about him irritates me.They finally got to me
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I had thought my so-called dad's threats were just mere words as he would always say to mum every time they quarreled. I guess I underestimated him in that aspect.I acted foolishly for the first time thinking a wicked man could say vain words.It was on the third week after the incident, he and mum had just finished quarreling as they would always do and he rushed out angrily after glaring and cursing at me.I stared at mum, she was bleeding from her lips, hands, and legs. I hate talking about the beatings she always received in each quarrel session because it hurt me more than anything so I often tend to term them all as quarrels."Help me." She muttered faintly, stretched her hand to me, and coughed out blood.I wanted to ignore her because she caused it all to herself. How can anyone still stay in a marriage that caused her so much harm?I wanted to shout at her to go to hell for all I care but then she's my mum and I'm so attached to her. I walked slowly to her and took her stretc
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I get to the door and turn the doorknob but the silly door wouldn't budge. It doesn't seem to freak me out because it's not his first.He normally does that always and I tend to go back not because I can't enter if I want to but because I just feel like not interfering.Don't look at me that way, it's part of the powers I have. I can enter through any door I want and with just a glance can open any door.This happens to be the first power I realized I had, it was on a cold night. Mum came back late from work and kept knocking, hoping to be let in but my so-called dad wouldn't let her in.And wouldn't let me go get her too.And why was that? Well, as he babbled to my hearing; before mum came back from work, he was horny due to the cold and needed to fuck badly but mum was nowhere to be found so he decided to call over a cheap slut and fuck her right in front of me.For two hours I watched him bang her recklessly until a knock sounded on the door.I knew who it was right from where I sat
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Her cries wouldn't stop. It keeps increasing. If it is just that I wouldn't be a bit concerned but she is kissing him. She is fucking kissing all over his face and soaking him up with her tears.I clench my fist and bare my teeth, tempted to end her chapter just like I ended that of her husband but before I can take a step the whole place begins blaring with cop sirens.As if controlled by the same thing, I and mum turn pale and our eyes dilate. Cops? What are they doing here? Why are they here?I glance at mum and she is crying silently yet shaking her head furiously now. I try to run out but halt, turn back and rush to her. "Let's go before they get here, mum. Let's go." I urge her, stretching my hand for her to take it.Mum doesn't move. She just stares silently at me with tears still dribbling down her cheeks.I hear their footsteps getting closer and my breathing quicken. "Let's go, mum! Let's go!" I wail darting my eyes around as I look for an exit door and a smile form on my li
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I walk around the room in my naked state with water cascading down my plump body to be sure I didn't make a blunder about where I left the body but everything gets eerier when there's nothing in the room. Not even a single trace of blood!His heart is also not there. It's just as if nothing happened here. The room smells as new and fresh as liven flowers.Did someone come in here when I was in the bathroom? But I never heard a sound and cleaning up the sticky-smelling blood and taking away the corpse would have taken a lot more than an hour so how come?My throat suddenly feels dry. And my heart is panting heavily that I can hear the sound.I'm certain someone ten feet away from me would too. Or did I spend more than an hour in the bathroom? Perhaps I did!But even at that, the cops left so how then did the body suddenly disappear?I try to tell myself that I must have made a mistake, I try to believe that I might have assumed I left his corpse here when I didn't.But in as much as I t
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With how fragile his full, tick-haired head looks, I doubt it would last up to one– or maybe two– minutes if I hit it against the wall not so far away from him.At least if I'm detained for his murder this time around, I'll serve my punishment and my mum will have to be set free. I doubt they won't put bit and bit together after finding his corpse the same way I left my dad's and know that I killed him too. They are smart, they would know.A sour acid-like taste creeps into my mouth and my chest tightens as I remember her. And how she looked when they dragged her away.I wonder what they are doing to her right now, I wonder about the state she is in. I wonder if they would be so ruthless enough to hit her.My fist clenches at the thought of someone hitting her and my heart palpitates.It happens so quickly that I suck in a rush of air and bring my hand to the base of my throat, my eyes rolling over to my head and my breathing going up and up. "Jesus, breathe Bella, breathe," I whispe
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She looked so young and naive, probably sixteen years old. I would have walked away as I normally do but I couldn't understand why such a young girl like her would want to end her life at that early age. Not that I cared, I guess I was just curious and needed something– anything– to forget about my sorrows or at the slightest keep it low. And she was the exact thing I needed at that moment because while walking out of the hell I call home, I was hoping I would see someone who could come along and make my tragedies seem less tragic.You might not understand this phenomenon but it's something people like me who have seen the worst things in life do.You seek out people like you... or people worse off than you... and you use them to make yourself feel a bit better about the horrible things that have happened to you at such an early stage of life.It's often so horrible how life works. Some people face their horrors of life once in a while, some once in a lifetime, the lucky ones don't
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No one shouts at me. Absolutely no one! You might probably think that a lie, of course, it is. But then again, it is also the truth.I said no one because I've never termed my so-called dad a living thing. He had always been a living corpse to me so I didn't take whatever he did to me seriously. Killing him still makes me feel so good even though I know that he died so easily and leisurely.I do wish I could bring him back to life and give him a slow, painful death. One he wouldn't have forgotten even in his grave and afterlife as a ghost.I stared at the young girl who had just broken my history by being the first girl to ever shout at me and my deep sapphire blue eyes darkened.I knew it did because I could see it through her eyes. They were as black as coal with no pupil visible yet I could see. Perhaps I could see even more than the girl.My breathing exacerbated and my fists clenched. I didn't know being shouted at could make me that angry, but it did, I knew it, and she knew it
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His words drag me back to reality. They are so deep that I don't just hear them, I feel them deep down my bones, body, and soul.It's so cold and at the same time warm. I can feel them and it feels like I can touch them too.I've never known words can penetrate that deep. Nobody's words have ever penetrated that deep into me but his does.Why? Why does it? I'm getting frustrated with each passing minute! Why do everything he does have an impact on me?Things never do, why then is his different? Why is his trying to push through my barrier?I grit my teeth and stare at him, realizing that he is indeed still alive when should he be dead.I have almost forgotten about him. I tend to do that each time I doze off. I hope you are not getting me wrong. I hope you are not getting the word 'doze' wrong because it doesn't in any way relate to sleep in that statement.I drop my eyes on him. At the stranger who is making me feel things I haven't felt before and anger bubbles within me.All I think
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