Sadistic Stories
🛑 ALL INFORMATION CLICK HERE 👈🏻👈🏻👈🏻
Sadistic Stories
Like ( 0 ) 0 Nicely written Liked it Thank you Like ( 0 )
hey my name is joseph mathews, im 16 currently on no medication which i should probably be hah but anways when i was a kid i drank bleach when i was about 3 i guess i almost died at the age of 5 i drank a 5th of apple pucker i dont remmeber theses at all just last year i started expermiting with illegal substances and i like wee and all but i think it changed me deep down im a diffrent person theres only one time i remmber what happened when i finaly snapped we were all at rose swimming mid summer i poped a few hydros and then smoked 3 bowls after that we dicied to go swimming but when we did we all were fucking around splashing eachother and shit oh boy it was fun untill i got duncked i dont recall on whom did it but i seemed to snap and before then i knew someone else was inside of me like a spirt or something maybe it was all the oujia board hah im not to sure but i called myself johnny over and over agian something i couldnt control i remmber that i freaked out that day but i dont care now because now he talks to me every night makes me feel like im not alone but even when i have an army of friends who call upon me for inspiration his fucking thoughts seem to slip into my brain his thiyghts thats what changed me... i started doing coke loved it cause when im on coke his thoughts they dont slip out and make me the monster who i usally im his disire for blood is coming out i cut my own skin agian just to like it clean im fucking crazy as we speak hes telling me not to type but i have control coming down from coke is crazy im going to try and make peice with this son of a bitch his sadistic thought are making me smile i just cant expose it to anyone closely know mabye i dont care anymore but living in society is just so wierd
this is about me © 8 years ago , joseph mathews sadistic • crazy • dark • life
Like ( 1 ) 1 Nicely done Keep going Thx Like ( 1 )
Have you ever been so sad it physically hurts? Like your entire body aches as if your veins are filled with a melancholy poison. It’s a strange sensation to be suspended in this sorrowful state of existence, mostly because I can’t remember what it feels like to be happy. Truly happy.
Sometimes when I dream, I see a girl who smiles and laughs and enjoys living so much that it’s contagious to everyone around her. It’s so surreal because her face is always unrecognisable to me, her unyielding smile of pure joy is almost blinding, until everything shifts and she becomes my reflection. So for a second I stand smiling so intensely at myself that I feel like my heart could burst from my chest because the raw emotion flowing through my scalp, through my limbs, even to the tips of my toes and back, is such a shock to my numb soul. My reflection leans towards me and almost as if she has a treasured secret to tell me she beckons me with her hand. Mesmerised, I step forward almost immediately. She stares into my eyes not unkindly, though I begin to feel unsettled. She’s still smiling but it’s different now, perhaps because I’m closer. It looks like the mouth-watering smile a venus fly trap might give its next meal.
Then without any warning, other than the unsettling ache in my gut, she opens her mouth slightly, as if to whisper but the sound that escapes her small mouth is a shrill screech that echoes painfully through my rattling skull. It’s a howl that resembles the squeal of a lonely, tortured creature.
I cover my ears and stare at her, mirroring the blank expression on her face. But just as suddenly as it starts, the noise stops and her blank expression is bright, just like before. Her impeccable smile exactly how it had been moments earlier. She lifts her left hand to brush my face gently and I’m so entranced by her haunting outburst I don’t even flinch away from her touch. My cheek feels sticky and wet, almost warm, so I wipe it with the back of my hand only to find a crimson streak there. Blood.
Thick, red, sticky blood. Only then do I notice she’s clutching a knife which is plunging deep into a wound in her stomach, a stream of red spilling down her white top. I step back. Her smile incandescently lighting her whole face, blood flowing from her middle she then begins to giggle hysterically. That’s usually when I wake with a start and swallow my heart back down to my chest.
The worst part is I can’t even explain a reason for the sadness that’s gripped me for months now. I can’t tell why my heart aches, my shoulders are constantly slumped and my head feels heavier than a bowling ball. I know the most likely causes and I tell myself it’s a combination of things, but I can tell you now… I’m finding it difficult to convince myself to say the least.
I feel empty and alone as if I have lost a great love or suffered a tough tragedy maybe, but I haven’t. I have no excuse, no-one to blame. Just my own self-righteous mistakes.
So my heart bleeds and my soul trembles, it’s not just a deep sadness that devours me, a boiling anger sometimes wells up from within. An anger that sets my world ablaze and burns through my mind until thick black smoke surrounds me in soul-blackening ash.
Random creative/original short piece. Basically just me messing around with some feelings and words. © 10 years ago , Lucia Almeida sadness • anger • dreams • blood • sadistic • slightly-gory
Like ( 0 ) 0 Inspired me Clever job Enjoyable Like ( 0 )
hey my name is joseph mathews, im 16 currently on no medication which i should probably be hah but anways when i was a kid i drank bleach when i was about 3 i guess i almost died at the age of 5 i drank a 5th of apple pucker i dont remmeber theses at all just last year i started expermiting with illegal substances and i like wee and all but i think it changed me deep down im a diffrent person theres only one time i remmber what happened when i finaly snapped we were all at rose swimming mid summer i poped a few hydros and then smoked 3 bowls after that we dicied to go swimming but when we did we all were fucking around splashing eachother and shit oh boy it was fun untill i got duncked i dont recall on whom did it but i seemed to snap and before then i knew someone else was inside of me like a spirt or something maybe it was all the oujia board hah im not to sure but i called myself johnny over and over agian something i couldnt control i remmber that i freaked out that day but i dont care now because now he talks to me every night makes me feel like im not alone but even when i have an army of friends who call upon me for inspiration his fucking thoughts seem to slip into my brain his thiyghts thats what changed me... i started doing coke loved it cause when im on coke his thoughts they dont slip out and make me the monster who i usally im his disire for blood is coming out i cut my own skin agian just to like it clean im fucking crazy as we speak hes telling me not to type but i have control coming down from coke is crazy im going to try and make peice with this son of a bitch his sadistic thought are making me smile i just cant expose it to anyone closely know mabye i dont care anymore but living in society is just so wierd
this is about me © 8 years ago , joseph mathews sadistic • crazy • dark • life
Like ( 1 ) 1 Nicely done Keep going Thx Like ( 1 )
Chapter Three
A month had passed since that night when Sarah's father had visited her. It was a relatively peaceful Wednesday afternoon. Sam was talking to a girlfriend about the cost of hair dye and Sarah was in her room, thinking and doodling. She was lying on the floor in her rainbow socks and was busy drawing a house and a family. She colored in the house and flowers and people, but all the crayon in the world couldn't hide the fact they were stick people. Sarah crumpled the drawing and tossed into the pile of other doodles with simliar results. She sighed and stared up at the cracks in the ceiling. "What are we going to do Tina?" she whispered to her doll. The ragdoll said nothing, it only smiled and stared with its button eyes. "Fine, be that way." And she threw against it the wall. Sarah drummed her fingers against the window still. It was a warm summer day full of possibilities and adventures. And where she spending it? Inside a hot house with only a fuzzy T.V., old magazines, and drawing to entertain her. She had gone to the library a million times, drawn hundreds of pictures, and had enough tea parties with Tina until she was sick of tea. She hated her mother, even more than she did that night long ago. She hated it when she asked what she did today when inside her mother was probably laughing at her misery and basking in its glory.
Sarah fumed inside, out of boredom and frustration. It wasn't fair! She couldn't even kill her mother like most people, using a gun or choking them. She had even waited because if you're going to do something big, you at least wait a bit. And she had waited! A month of quieted fury and pacing her room impatiently, waiting for the right idea. Ideas came, but they were the right ones. She could make her mother trip and fall. No, that didn't always work and she probably get suspicious looks and unwanted attention. She could poison her! That was sure proof, wasn't it? But couldn't they find out the cause of death? Okay, that plan was a maybe. But they couldn't blame it on her daughter. They just say it was a bad drink. Hmm, maybe she could hire someone to do it. No, little girls shouldn't hang with those sorts of people, even if this little girl is wondering about homicide. Besides she didn't the time or the money to hunt someone down.
Sarah pulled out her old backpack from under her bed. It was pink and faded and tainted with dirt. She glanced up at her new one, the one she gotten last week. It was green with orange polka dots. She made a face. She hated that backpack. It smelled funny, it was dotted orange, and it reminded her of her mother's stupid boyfriend. He gave it to her and smiled, revealing yellowed teeth. He always smoked and recently hooked her mother on cigarettes. She had peeked inside and found the smell of smoke and pieces of cigarettes. She pulled the pink one over her shoulders and ran out, yelling to her mother she'd be gone for a while.
Sarah stepped into the library. It was so cold, so quiet, and peaceful. Books leaned from carts and shelves groaned with old copies of newspapers. She ran into computer room. It was built for teens but was eerily deviod of life. She looked around, comfirming she was alone before seating herself on a adult computer. There were three sections of computers. One for kids, one for teens, and one for adults. She typed in her card number before seeing a message pop up, saying her card wasn't valid or something. She groaned and remembered her mother had signed her up for the card, which meant she was registered as a child. She started for the door, but was stopped by the same girl who helped her before. Sarah felt her blood go cold as she backed away. The girl with glasses sat down at her computer and typed in her card. The computer pinged and opened to a internet browser. She smiled again and ran off, her eyes brightening. Sarah sat down at the computer, shaking off her encounter with the girl. She had work to do.
After about five minutes of research, she found her poison. According to the web page, rat poison insecticide with alcohol oil infused with lead or ammonium nitrate. The only promblem was that someone could find out. No healthy person dropped dead out of nowhere. But if she started to feel a little ill after a few drops of the poison, she would have to be treated. Then she could keep giving her doses of poison until she died. It might work. But then how would she get all this stuff? It wasn't like she could just walk into a store and ask for rat poison. Nor could you just pick up some ammonium at the grocery store. She scribbled down the ingredients along with a few poisons before switching off the computer. She thrust the notebook into her backpack and ran out of the library.
As she walked home, Sarah wondered how she going to get these things. She kicked some puddles left over by last night's thunderstorm. She could make them, but that would require access to the adult computers. And that girl wasn't going to help her either. She was probably just some weird bookworm who liked going the library. Maybe she worked there, even though Sarah didn't remember seeing her there often. She probably came in the evenings. Anyway, she was going to need those poisons and if she couldn't get them then someone else was going to get them for her. With a satisfied smile and a kick in her step, she set off for home.
author's note: Okay so this chapter takes place in the summer and like Sarah I nothing to do except write and read and use the internet. © 10 years ago , Anna dark • sadistic • third-person • poison • cigarette • the • chronicles • of • sarah • chapter • three • other
Like ( 0 ) 0 Great Nicely written! Clever write Like ( 0 )
Profanity : Our optional filter replaced words with *** on this page • Configure
Announcing our Android App! Open in App x
The most painful stage of my life which occurs OFTEN, is the fight between my personalities. My joy overthrows my depression with laughter while i depression retaliates with the harsh reality of single life and no friends. A dark life with no one to turn to in your time of pain and suffering. When i cry no one is there, When my mind is about to explode no one is there. It's up to me to hold my mind in place which takes a toll on my body. I can't cry anymore once i feel my instincts going out of control. Then the gates of suicide welcome me, but i turn away and picture myself in a masochist paradise with those of the other gender who've deflowered themselves. This is my reality a Masochist with a Severe split personality affliction. The curse of the Yin-Yang or just the result of an emotional war caused by the injustices of life?
I hate, I love, I laugh, I struggle to cry, Just one day i'll leave the void of the Masochist life and take a worthless deflowered one with me and torture her in the afterlife when i Die and my memory of hating that deflowered woman remains. Rot all of them who never gave me a chance. This pain i ache with right now is more than enough fury to start a revolution in a heart just by glaring in the eye of a blind deflowered one. I'm cold. I'm Dark and the tears are frozen. The river i want to cry has no more tributary leads. The lake of rage/discord/depression can no longer evaporate and my darkened beaten tortured heart at the floor of the lake is heating up with injustic and HATRED! It's hard not to explode but easy when you're alone and your entire existence is drowning in your own lake of emotions.... I hate life, i hate deflowered women with my entire existence. These words are real, These words are from my heart of darkness.
Sick of having hope in a hopeless world, So sick of everyone's cherish of a deflowered one, So sick of How they look. As mentioned earlier...Rot. Die, wither....and i will mourn your fabled life as a pristine one where we had an even greater chance of Uniting.
Was in much pain when writing this. Being Brought up in hatred was certainly a key factor in this.
Sadistic stories, books, poems, and more
A Haunted House with a sinister twist.
Read More
A poem about the world and the way we are treated. Selling ourselves for the gain of a few.
We are slowly dying just to live a little. Read More
The story is about a young, good looking African woman who scams old man for money in Europe. One day she has a fling with a young writer. Unfortunately for her, the writer is very streetwise and discovers the real truth behind her. That moment he starts to write a… Read More
The story is about a young, good looking African woman who scams old man for money in Europe. One day she has a fling with a young writer. Unfortunately for her, the writer is very streetwise and discovers the real truth behind her. That moment he starts to write a… Read More
?'? '?????' ?? ???? ???? ???? ??????
Not for the feint hearted or squeamish! Read More
Slow and tormenting death. This is a really short story about someone's slow and painful death. It was inspired by this old story I wrote back in elementary school. I used the same character and just made this scene more graphic. Warning: Blood Read More
~It’s in your blood. You came from the cursed bloodline. You were born as a vampire... Embrace or deny your fate...~ Warning: Violence, Sadistic, Psychological.
Once you got bitten, you will turn into a vampire. Sounds superficial? It is. The truth is, those are lies. Those are what the humans… Read More
This story was set in 1856. It was primarily written to signify my love for the Victorian era. Where it may be written morbidly, its intention is not to reflect my own perception. It is to highlight the ruthlessness that took place during this century and how people were simply… Read More
He was surrounded by nothing but darkness, isolated from all sources of light. Hate became his shield. He may come across as a hard shell but deep down he just wanted someone to hold. Will contain yaoi, non-con, S&M and other rough sexual occurances in later chapters. VanVen Read More
When Murder is struck to Shillington High School three students now solve something that puts their lives at stake Read More
The ever so famous Harley Quinn (The Joker's Girlfriend) had to be molded into the devious little prankster she became. Abuse and heartbreak is enough to create and destroy an individual... Read More
An individual wakes up with no recollection of anything prior to the current events. He's surrounded by a cornfield, soon realizing that the crops hold a grim fate for him. Read More
I looked in the mirror and saw a girl. Her clothes and skin were covered in blood, her hair was tangled and damp with drying blood, and her deep blue eyes were wide with bloodlust. It scared me that, that was me, no one else. Read More
Jack Thomas Salder, a doctor or a madman, sane or insane. will he be abel to keep his two identies seperate.
Authors Note: I will try to updated this atleast once a month. Read More
An original Gothic genre story. Read More
this is a sample of my new novel that I'm trying to publish. I'd like some feedback and maybe tips on where I could get it published. And I also want to know if people will like it. Read More
Well the poem says it all =) Read More
Im pretty sure you will get the idea Read More
A poem explaining my inner thought and my cruel sadistic ideas. This is my first poem have over 1000 views. Enjoy! Read More
Authors Note: Please assist me in deciding whether or not to novelise this one.
This is a Prologue so no back story o
Voy Sperm Donor
A Girl Sucks Dick
I Fucked My Stepdad