A Monster's Final Goodbye

My boyfriend, Carter, hadn't spoken to me in five days. But when my national architecture competition win went viral, he finally called-not to congratulate me, but to scream that I' d embarrassed him by not telling him first. His new girlfriend, Brittney, was the one who tagged him in my post. She was also the one whispering in his ear during the call, telling him I was making him look bad. This was the final straw in a long, cold war. But the real nightmare began when Brittney sent me a video of her torturing my dog, Apollo, in our old apartment. Then came a photo of his lifeless body. I rushed over, blinded by rage, and slammed her head against the wall with an ashtray. Carter, the man I once loved, shoved me away, calling me a maniac for hurting the woman who had just murdered my dog. He chose her. He always chose her. As I carried Apollo's cold body out the door, I made a vow. I would make them pay. I would make their lives a living hell.

Chapters

Chapter 4

Elinore POV:

The video started playing. My breath caught in my throat, a knot of ice forming in my stomach. The shaky footage showed the inside of my old apartment. No, their apartment now, a cold voice corrected me. The camera panned slowly, deliberately, towards the living room.

And there he was. Apollo. My beautiful Apollo, my rescue dog, the one I loved more than anything. He was whimpering, cowering in a corner, his tail tucked between his legs. Brittney's voice, high-pitched and taunting, floated from off-screen. "Look at him, Carter! He's so dirty! And he keeps barking at me! Your ex-girlfriend's dog is so annoying."

Then I saw it. Brittney, holding a broom, poking him, jabbing him. Apollo yelped, a sound of pure terror, trying to scramble away. Brittney giggled, a chilling, cruel sound that vibrated through my phone. "Oh, is he scared? Good. He should be. You're just like your owner, a little aggressor."

My body started to tremble, a violent tremor that shook my entire frame. "What are you doing?!" I screamed at the phone, my voice hoarse, as if she could hear me. "Stop it! Stop hurting him!"

The video continued. Brittney's face came into view, twisted into a triumphant sneer. "This is for all the times Elinore thought she was better than me," she hissed, her voice low and menacing. "For all the times she thought she had you, Carter. You chose me. And now, her precious dog gets to pay the price for her arrogance."

Apollo let out a series of desperate barks, then a truly gut-wrenching whine. The sound tore through me, ripping away whatever composure I had left. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice.

I slammed the phone down onto the table, grabbing my car keys. "Taxi!" I yelled into the empty room, my voice cracking. "I need a taxi! Now!" My hands shook so violently I could barely unlock the apartment door. Apollo. My sweet, loyal Apollo. The image of him cowering, whimpering, was burned into my mind.

As I fumbled for my wallet, my phone buzzed again. Another message from Carter. "Elinore, you better not be planning anything stupid. Apollo is fine. He just needs to learn his place."

He said Apollo was fine. But Brittney's video… My mind raced, grappling with the conflicting information, but the terror for Apollo won out. "If you hurt him, Carter, I swear to God, I will make you regret it for the rest of your life!" I typed back, my fingers flying.

No response. Just the terrifying silence.

The taxi felt like it was moving in slow motion, every red light an agonizing eternity. My phone buzzed again. It was Brittney. A picture.

A single, horrifying photo. Apollo, lying motionless on the kitchen floor. A dark, spreading stain beneath him. His eyes, usually so bright and full of life, were dull, vacant. Lifeless.

And the caption, a single, chilling phrase: "Oops. Looks like he couldn't handle the pressure. #AccidentsHappen #ByeByeDoggy"

My world tilted. The air left my lungs in a whoosh. No. No, no, no. This couldn't be real. My Apollo. My brave, loving Apollo. The dog who had protected me from a coyote, who always greeted me with boundless joy. He was gone. Killed. Tortured. By them.

A guttural scream ripped from my throat, raw and desperate. The taxi driver glanced back, startled, but I didn't care. I pounded on the window. "Faster! Faster! Please!"

When the taxi finally screeched to a halt outside my old building, I fumbled with the payment, my hands shaking uncontrollably. I burst out of the car, sprinting towards the entrance. My code. My fingers, numb with shock and rage, struggled with the keypad. Error. Error. Again. Tears streamed down my face, blinding me.

"Carter!" I shrieked, hammering on the door, my knuckles raw. "Brittney! Open this door, you monsters!" My voice was a desperate, primal sound, echoing in the quiet hallway. "I'm calling the police! I swear to God!"

The door creaked open. Carter stood there, his face pale, but his expression was not of remorse. He was wearing the same sleep shorts from Brittney's video. His eyes were cold, almost challenging. "Are you done with your little tantrum, Elinore?" he asked, his voice low, tinged with a strange mix of annoyance and something else-fear?

A sickening metallic smell hit me. Blood. My stomach lurched. My eyes darted past him, into the apartment. The kitchen doorway was visible from where I stood. And there, on the floor…

Brittney emerged from behind Carter, her eyes wide, feigning innocence. She was clutching a towel to her head, a small smear of something dark on the white fabric. "Oh, Elinore," she whispered, her voice trembling. "He was so aggressive. He just…he jumped at me. I had to defend myself."

My vision tunneled. Everything went red. He jumped at you? The words echoed in my head, a grotesque lie. Apollo, the gentlest soul. My Apollo. Tortured and killed.

A roar tore from my throat. I shoved past Carter, who stumbled back, surprised. My gaze locked onto Brittney. I saw red. Pure, unadulterated rage. I launched myself at her, my hands finding purchase in her hair.

"You bitch!" I screamed, slamming her head against the wall. The sound was sickening, a dull thud. "You absolute psycho bitch! What did you do to him?! What did you do?!"

Brittney shrieked, a high-pitched, piercing sound. "He attacked me! He attacked me! He bit me! I swear!" She clutched at Carter, tears streaming down her face, real tears this time. "Carter, help me! She's crazy! She's going to kill me!"

The memory flashed through my mind: Brittney, weeks ago, scoffing at Apollo, calling him "just a mutt." Brittney "accidentally" kicking his food bowl. Brittney complaining he smelled "too much like dog." It had been a slow, insidious torture, culminating in this horrific act.

My hand found her face, and I slapped her. Hard. The crack echoed in the room. "You lying, manipulative monster!" I roared. "You think I don't know what you are?!"

Before I could land another blow, a massive force hit me from behind. Carter. He grabbed my arms, twisting them, and shoved me hard against the opposite wall. My head smacked against the plaster, stars exploding behind my eyes. Pain shot through my skull.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Elinore?!" Carter bellowed, his face inches from mine, his eyes blazing with fury. He was cradling Brittney, stroking her hair as she sobbed into his chest. "Look what you did! Look at her head! You're insane!"

Brittney, still weeping, wailed, "She's just like her dog, Carter! Wild and dangerous! He tried to bite me, and she tried to kill me! We're not safe!"

Carter glared at me, his face filled with disgust. "You're a maniac! She's hurt! You need to apologize, Elinore! Right now!"

Apologize? To her? For this? My gaze, still swimming from the impact with the wall, drifted back to the kitchen. And there he was. Apollo. A small, still form on the cold tile. The blood, so much blood. It wasn't just a stain. It was a pool.

Something inside me snapped. The pain in my head, the throbbing in my chest, the cold, empty ache where Apollo's love used to be. It all coalesced into a single, terrifying thought.

"You killed him," I whispered, my voice raw, broken. "You both killed him. My Apollo." I raised my eyes to Carter, the last vestiges of love, of anything, burned away by the inferno of grief and rage. My voice rose, clear and chilling. "You're dead to me, Carter Mack. And I swear, I will make you pay for this. Both of you. I will make your lives a living hell!" My hand, still trembling, instinctively reached for the closest weapon. The heavy glass ashtray from the coffee table.

Continue to next part

In the shadows of the omega world, survival is a brutal game. But claiming an S-tier Alpha as your fated mate? That's a descent into hellfire. Three years ago, she fled into the night, her world crumbling under two devastating revelations: He was her destined bond, and her father was the killer behind the tragedy that orphaned him. As her father melted into oblivion, she vanished too, terrified of the vengeful beast she feared he'd unleash. Yet he was no ordinary predator. He was Elias Kingsley, the apex terror of Alphas- a ruthless billionaire empire-builder, a sovereign of shadows and savagery, wielding dominance with the ease of a predator's strike. Now, destiny's cruel hand drags them back into the inferno. Tucked away in a opulent hotel, she's dispatched to deliver drinks to an elite room, oblivious to the trap awaiting: a drugged Alpha in feral rut, the very nightmare she's buried for years. In his grasp, the night devours her-stripping away her virginity, her fragile illusions, her hidden truths. Come dawn, she's a ghost once more. But Elias clings to her intoxicating scent like a curse. This time, his runaway omega won't slip away. Not when lust entwines with retribution, forging an obsession that devours everything in its path-dark, unrelenting, and utterly inescapable.

Horror Romance Werewolf

9.2

Claimed By The Cursed Black Snake Alpha

9.2

At the absolute summit of her pop-star career, the stage collapsed beneath Catherine's feet, plunging her into a mechanical black hole. When she opened her eyes, she wasn't in a hospital, but a savage, primitive forest. Before a fire-breathing beast could tear her apart, a massive black snake crushed it with a single strike. The terrifying serpent then transformed into Amon, a towering, heavily scarred man with golden slitted eyes, who swore his life to protect her. He brought her to his tribe, but instead of safety, they were met with ravenous hunger and disgust. The tribe's males stared at Catherine's fragile human body like a rare breeding prize, while treating Amon like garbage. "He's a cursed, cold-blooded freak! His rut will tear you to pieces!" The Chief sneered, pointing a thick, accusing finger at Amon. "By tribal law, you must mate with our strongest tiger and bear shifters to give us powerful cubs!" Humiliated, Amon's broad shoulders slumped, his fists trembling in suffocating shame as he prepared to back away. Catherine's heart pounded with fierce, burning anger. When she was about to be eaten, Amon was the only one who bled for her. Where were these arrogant bullies then? Why should she let them treat her savior like a monster? As the tribe's strongest warriors swarmed forward to claim her, Catherine stepped directly in front of Amon's lethal claws. "I don't need any of you," she declared, her voice cutting through the chaos. "I will mate with Amon and take his beast mark today!"

Fantasy Horror Werewolf

9.6

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

9.6

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

Horror Modern Romance

7.9

HIS 6TH BRIDE FATAL OBSESSION

7.9

Some cages are lined with silk. Some chains are dipped in gold. But they still hold you captive. Nineteen-year-old Cassia Hale becomes the sixth bride of billionaire Killian Thorne, not out of love, but as payment for her father's gambling debts. One threat against her fifteen-year-old sister. One signature. And her life as she knew it is over. Thrust into a mansion with five other wives, Cassia quickly learns she's different. Killian doesn't just want her, he's obsessed. She's the only one he intends to legally marry, the only one who can give him an heir, the only one who matters. But in a house where wives compete for survival and a mysterious fortune lies buried beneath the gardens, being the favorite makes her the biggest target. Isla, the cunning queen bee, sees Cassia as an existential threat. Nessa, the jaded rebel, warns her to run while she can. Vera drowns in forbidden love with a servant. Mira watches everything with calculating eyes. And sweet, kind Thalia hides the most dangerous secrets of all. When groundskeeper Dash offers Cassia escape and what seems like genuine love, she's torn between the monster who owns her and the man who might save her. But as drugged seductions, calculated betrayals, and murders disguised as accidents tear through the mansion, Cassia discovers the other wives aren't her only problem. Someone is systematically eliminating the competition. Bodies are disappearing. Lies are unraveling. And Killian's dark empire, built on weapons dealing and blood money is more dangerous than she ever imagined. As Cassia falls pregnant and the mansion descends into chaos, she must navigate deadly games where jealousy kills and trust is fatal. One by one, the other wives fall, exposed, destroyed by their own schemes, until only one question remains: Will Cassia become another casualty? Or will she claim her crown as the only woman fierce enough to stand beside a monster and transform him into a king? From captive to queen. From six brides to one. This is the story of how Cassia Hale became Mrs. Thorne and survived to rule his empire. A dark, intensely erotic romance about power, obsession, and choosing love with your eyes wide open. ⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Forced Marriage/Captivity Dubious Consent (initial encounters) Sexual Content (explicit, intense) Violence Emotional Manipulation Power Imbalance (age gap, wealth gap, power gap) Threats to Family Members (Lila) Dark Themes (obsession, possession, control) Death (side characters) Psychological Intensity Potentially Triggering Romance Dynamic

Billionaire Horror Romance

8.0

My Mother's Cruel, Blind Heart

8.0

I sacrificed five years of my life for my comatose mother. When she finally woke up, she looked right through me. She embraced my estranged stepfather and a strange girl, calling her daughter. I was cast aside like trash, forced into the servant's quarters and left to eat from the garbage. My new "sister" even set her dog on me. As the dog tore at my arm, I locked eyes with my mother. She watched for a moment, then slowly pulled the curtains shut. In that moment, my hope shattered. I was nothing to her. A problem to be ignored. But as a social worker led me away to foster care, a black car screeched to a halt. My grandfather stumbled out, clutching a DNA report, his face ghost-white. His eyes, wide with shock, locked onto mine. "My God," he gasped. "Aisha... you're my son's real daughter. My granddaughter."

Horror Modern

7.6

No Longer His Ghost: My Life Begins

7.6

I pulled the perfectly baked Beef Wellington from the oven, its rich scent filling our Manhattan penthouse. For five years, I’d crafted this perfect life, but tonight, I’d discover my entire existence was a cruel, silent lie. The man I loved had built it all on betrayal. Preparing our anniversary dinner, I reflected on five years of building a flawless home for Blake, a dream I’d never known. Searching for a pen, I found a hidden compartment in Blake’s desk containing a cheap black USB drive—a significant secret for a man who despised anything less than perfect. His MacBook unlocked with his birthday, not ours. The USB, after a near-data-wipe, revealed "The Archives": hundreds of photos of Blake with his college girlfriend, Isabelle, passionate love letters, and a wardrobe chosen to mirror hers. My name yielded "0 results found," while millions were wired to Isabelle. I was a meticulously funded stand-in, a ghost he dressed up to play house. My non-existence in his world and his financial betrayal ignited a cold, burning rage. Blake returned, dismissive, offering a delayed anniversary gift. I confronted him; he ripped the USB, snapped it, and stated, "Nothing changes, as long as you know your place." My obedience shattered: "I want a divorce," I declared, then destroyed dinner and packed my own bag.

Horror Modern Romance

A Monster's Final Goodbye

Chapter 4

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