Novels by ladyaize

It started that day. I feel guilty, but the interval between when I go insane is getting longer and longer. And using the counteractive drug won’t help me much anymore, or it will make my condition much worse. "Clive," I mumbled amidst the dim light of my room. I’m lying in bed while he sits in bed beside me. I can’t see most of his expressions, but his side profile is deeply reflected in my pupils. He lowered his gaze and hummed in his baritone voice. "What is it?" he asked carefully.For some reason, it makes me think that I’m fragile and that any wrong word or move can trigger that madness within me. I hate this, but it's only in this rare moment when I’m sober that I can have a conversation with him. "Something is wrong with me," I say with much certainty. I’m not dumb. I know that there is something horribly wrong with me. I want to accuse anyone, but it makes me wonder why. Why is this happening? Am I truly insane? or some kind of substance within me? I don’t know. Clive t

As I calmed down, it gradually became clear in my mind that the memories of when I suddenly lost myself had flooded in. The fear that is sprouting in my mind completely resides within me. It’s like, I already know that something is wrong, but for some inexplicable reason, I don’t want to admit it either. The conflicting reasons are making it even harder for me to assess the situation. "Clive," I call his name, as his hand slides down from my eyes, and yet my eyes remain closed. "What is it?" he asked in a soothing voice, as though afraid to agitate my emotions again. A bitter smile emerges from my lips, and I’m aware that what I did earlier is truly not normal. Until now, I can still feel the way I want to kill everyone in my sight, as I kept on asking them, How did they know me when I don’t even know myself?This is fucked up, but I don’t have an answer within me either. "Will I get crazy again?" My low tone reveals my confusion as well as the anxiety that overwhelms me as I spe

I always ask myself, Is it real that I’m finding myself, or am I gradually losing myself? What is the real answer to this question? That is yet to be determined, or perhaps I already know it deep inside my heart. Lowering my head and suddenly falling silent, I only saw Clive’s feet on the ground after a few seconds; he is already in front of me. Slowly, I lifted my head, and our eyes met. Those eyes are still the same as the moment I saw them for the first time in that bar. They were particularly mysterious and oppressive, and yet as I stare at them, those green eyes seem to have a lot to say but can’t for some reason."What do you think of my skills?" He started grinning, showing his white teeth. "Impressive?" His brows playfully move. My throat moved after swallowing all the questions that were about to come out of my lips. Calling them questions is not appropriate either. In fact, they are all doubts... to which I am afraid to know the answer. "You are," I replied, not breaking

Our tongues intertwine as I almost can’t breathe, as though Clive is determined to take all my breath away. I didn’t even know where we changed locations or if I walked by myself or if he carried me as my back was suddenly pressed against the hard surface of the table. A moan couldn’t help but escape from my lips when Clive suddenly bit my lips, letting me open my mouth for his invasive tongue to completely take over and explore the insides of my mouth as though he couldn’t wait to mark his territory. With my lightheaded mind that suddenly becomes filled with pleasure and the tingling that wells up in my gut, I hold Clive’s arms with my left hand, and my other hand encircles his neck. He is now standing in between my legs, his right hand holding my legs to steady them around his waist, while his left hand is holding my chin and tracing my jaw, deepening the kiss even further. I can't even seriously respond to the kiss, aside from the tingling and weird feeling that it brought. Ther

I don't know where it started but I am now looking at Clive in a different light. Is it bad to feel secure in the words of your abductor? Perhaps it really is. Have I gone totally insane, or is the influence of my past self slowly coming back to me? Is this what Stockholm syndrome feels like? However, even though I know that this is bad, I can’t seem to stop either. Without responding to him, I nodded my head and turned my head to gaze at the dark shooting target. Holding the gun in my hand, which seemed to become particularly heavy, I positioned my body, not minding if it was right. Finally, my finger clicked the trigger at the same time that my pupils seemed to narrow as all the instincts that this body had surfaced. My blood boiled as though celebrating after all the pent-up years, so I shot another and didn’t stop. Amidst the sounds of the gun, there is a ringing in my ears as I can hear the circulation of my blood as I keep shooting with my heart accelerating, yet my expressio

I roam my eyes around after entering the underground training room, it’s still the same as when I first came here. The only thing that is different is my current mood, which was way too tense last time and has now begun to relax. And my relationship with Clive was far too tense before—although it’s still now, it has made such considerable progress that I can look around this room without worrying. I have the time to look at the variety of guns and weapons inside. I don’t know their names and have never seen them before, but for some reason, they actually feel so familiar to me. This doesn’t stump me anymore; after the last time, I no longer try to deny my connection with the underground world. It is a step for me to accept my real self, even though I don’t know if it’s a good thing. I can’t deny myself. I reach out and take one gun off the shelf and touch it curiously. It is different from the rifle I used last time. As I look at it, it feels as though I have an insight, which ra