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Breakdown Rage Room

Room 208

The air hung heavy with unspoken anxieties as Iris walked the sterile hospital corridors. A year. It had been a year since she’d received the devastating news: Iñigo, her beloved boyfriend, was dead. The pain still felt raw, a constant ache in her chest. She'd mourned him fiercely, the void his absence left echoing in her heart. Little did she know, the truth was far more complicated, twisted by a mother's disapproval and a desperate attempt to keep them apart. Iñigo’s mother, a woman whose disapproval Iris had always felt like a cold wind, had whisked him away to the States, a calculated move to sever their connection. She’d believed that distance, the vast expanse of the ocean, would be enough to erase Iris from Iñigo's life. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. Dr. Millie’s voice, crisp and professional, broke through Iris’s somber thoughts. "Iris, you're assigned to assist the patient in Room 208. He was recently transferred from the U.S.A." The doctor handed her the file. Iris took it mechanically, her mind already racing. The familiar chill that always accompanied thoughts of Iñigo's mother settled over her. This was no coincidence. A strange premonition tightened its grip on her, a knot of dread forming in her stomach. She felt a cold dread creeping up her spine. As she approached Room 208, a wave of nausea washed over her. She hesitated, her hand trembling as she reached for the door handle. A deep breath, a silent prayer, and then—she opened the door. The sight that greeted her stole the breath from her lungs. There he was, pale but undeniably Iñigo, lying in the hospital bed. Time seemed to stop. The world dissolved into a dizzying blur of disbelief and overwhelming emotion. A strangled gasp escaped her lips. He was alive. The carefully constructed wall of grief she’d built around her heart crumbled. A torrent of emotions – shock, relief, disbelief, and a bitter taste of betrayal – flooded her. All the pain, the tears, the emptiness… all for nothing? The file slipped from her numb fingers, landing silently on the floor. He was alive, and his mother had lied.
Yxenni · 2.4K Views

Blades Rage In Flame By Blood Dragon

In the iridescent tapestry of Halmosian, where the firmament shimmers with nebulous luminescence and the very air hums with the arcane whispers of forgotten deities, destiny entwines two souls as disparate as dusk and dawn. One, Aleeman Hakiman, a youth of no esoteric endowment yet of indomitable spirit, bears the mantle of teen commander of the Abjannas—warriors of resolute hearts and steely conviction. The other, Wei Yang Hong, a scion prince of the venerable Weng dragon clan, once a paragon of masculine ferocity, now ensnared in the silken chains of a cruel metamorphosis. Cursed into beauteous villainy, he sheds his former self and emerges as Shi Zhao Mei, a vision of ethereal allure, her vengeance as intoxicating as perfumed venom. Bound by fate’s inexorable decree, their paths converge at the Miracheneous Academy, a citadel of erudition and eldritch mastery, where Aleeman seeks knowledge to bridge the chasm of his powerlessness, and Shi Zhao Mei weaves her own enigma, a rose adorned with unseen thorns. Yet, beyond the confines of mortal intrigue, an abyssal spectre stirs—shadow-born abominations slither forth from the chasm of another world, their tenebrous tendrils grasping at the fabric of existence itself. Like a blade bereft of an edge yet held by a masterful hand, Aleeman must carve his legend not through sorcery, but through tenacity, wit, and the unyielding resolve of a commander who leads without the shield of supernatural prowess. And Shi Zhao Mei, a paradox of beauty and brutality, finds herself entangled in the dance of salvation, her past and present warring within as she sways between vehemence and valour. Thus begins their odyssey—a struggle against oblivion, a symphony of peril and promise, a battle where steel meets sorcery, where fate’s quill inscribes their names upon the annals of Halmosian.
DarkPhantom48957 · 4.3K Views
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