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A place where life doesn't last for more than an hour. A place where death is mercy. A place where the scent of blood lingers with no graveyards. A place where children are sold, for money, for power. He saw it happen. The blood. The sight. The sound. It lives with him. It follows him on each of his breaths. His younger stands with him as a wall. He is a support, yet broken inside. The youngest one lives in herself. Hidden from the world, she knows not what it may cost.
He shot his own brother. He tortured his own brother. Then hugged him, and cried. He punched him, wounded him. Then sat in
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Produktbeschreibung
A place where life doesn't last for more than an hour. A place where death is mercy. A place where the scent of blood lingers with no graveyards. A place where children are sold, for money, for power. He saw it happen. The blood. The sight. The sound. It lives with him. It follows him on each of his breaths. His younger stands with him as a wall. He is a support, yet broken inside. The youngest one lives in herself. Hidden from the world, she knows not what it may cost.

He shot his own brother. He tortured his own brother. Then hugged him, and cried. He punched him, wounded him. Then sat in the corner, torturing himself. Misunderstood. Never heard. The son, the brother, is now a renowned monster. Gone with his identity, gone with himself. On each of his breaths, he prays for his only escape - death.

Mind in what they live in themselves. When he's got to kill, none in the world cares. Every scream, every cry, every little tear - the result of his vile smile. Sinister in her mind, she sits there on her throne. Her rulings are with her. Her bloodlust - never-ending.A tiny smile. Vanish of the fake hope. The bust out of the monster. He went away in tears. Died when he last smiled.

They thought they'd meet them again. They couldn't even see their dead bodies. Yet, the ears heard it first.

He thought he had her with him. The white sheet gets stained crimson. She doesn't move.

They thought they won. The sword moves into him. The flesh tears apart.

He thought he saved her. The blood-stained knife lingers. "I always knew you'd die in my arms."

She thought it was her friend. The humanoid creeps within them. The dagger on her neck. Content warning: This novel contains scenes of severe violence, murder, child abuse, psychological trauma, blood, and death (including of children). A few scenes are intensely graphic and disturbing. It also includes depictions of self-harm and suicide attempts. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Accordingly, this novel is preferable for readers aged 18 and over.


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Autorenporträt
Qaneetah .R is a self-published teenage author from Pakistan whose passion lies in crafting fictional novels filled with mystery, adventure, murder, and dystopian intrigue. Alongside her novels, she writes poetry, often exploring philosophical themes with rich figurative language and elements of nature. Her poems reflect the complexities of everyday life, the challenges we all face, and the aspirations we strive for, while some also celebrate nature, animals, and moments of fun.

In her novels, Qaneetah frequently tackles themes of violence and crime. Her debut novel, The Freyonders and The Derelict Cemetery, is the first volume of the Freyonders series. With her unique style and perspective, she uses both poetry and prose to express emotions and make a meaningful impact in the literary world.