Invnarcel

Chapter 1: EVOLUTION Ethan: My life must be the epitome of boredom, I thought as I walked the streets to Brisbane State High School. I adjusted my thick glasses. Navy and red striped blazers and maroon shirts crowded about at the school gates up ahead. Nothing exciting ever happened in Brisbane. Outside of school I had an either dying or dead social life, I hadn't had a girlfriend since Year Eight (that was three years ago), and the only thing I could do with my spare time was study

What happens when a group of school students discover a notebook which has the power to kill? At first they go wild with the knowledge of this new power, but eventually they start to die off as well. Ethan must discover who's killing them before he's next.

Thanks for that tidbit 🤔 Though it makes a lot of sense. I'll remember that for other police procedure involved stories, unlike Jake I have not read an endless amount of crime thrillers. Just a few 😆 Thanks guys I'm glad you all liked it!

Kyle: So young and so untender. I sat at a desk with three police officers, navy-blue uniformed. Two women and a man, they looked fairly young. Maybe new recruits, I had no idea. I sat with an icy can of soft drink, Pasito passionfruit. Pressing it against my forehead while the policemen listened and took notes. If this was an interrogation room it didn't look like one. My neck had purple bruises. Jake had a gash on his cheek and a dent in his skull. He'd been concussed and bled out into

Only a cloud or two in the blue-blue sky, skirting along the horizons and sure to vanish later. The students of Brine High were running about the quadrangle and the grassy oval. It was Monday and I still hadn't told anyone about Jake, I felt scared and alone. I really wanted to ignore it and hope it'd go away. I'd hoped that after seeing me scamper over rocks to get away from him Jake would understand things better and stop trying to kill me. I wasn't interested in him nor had I wished him any i

Once again I stalled my ritual to paralyze Kyle. Everything was okay now, things had gone back to the way they had before he betrayed me. I was sitting by my altar in the corner of my bedroom on Sunday afternoon, trying to meditate. Trying was the key word, I couldn't do it. Although I often suffered from both racing thoughts and emotions, I was able to put all of my attention on one thing if I wanted to. That was how I was able to direct my emotions for the use of magic; channeling my spite

The painter had been willing to meet me at another fast-food venue, as friends. Instead of McDonalds I waited at a Hungry Jacks. I wasn't going to eat anything, the last of my savings was for a trip with friends to a waterpark on Sunday. There was a Wet And Wild a thirty-minute drive from Brine and through the busy suburbs in-between. Down the road from it was an authentic Buddhist temple. After this weekend I'd be proper broke so I'd have to hand out more resumes and hope to pick up work soon,

Friday afternoon at school was hotter, there were sweat-stains on the back of school shirts as kids slapped handballs against the grey bricks. Walking the footpath and eating canteen food. I sat alone on the corner of the Marble Tree's enclosure, ignoring the teens who were furrowing away in the dirt behind me. I skimmed through my English essay assignment, got quickly bored and stuffed the papers back into my bag. Almost pulled out a cigarette but saw Mr Steele heading across the quadrangle fro

From across her glass-cut table Marie Humberdross probed her forehead, looking out with eyes closed. "I really do feel for you, this is some crazy shit." she murmured. The fact she didn't consider herself too mystical to swear in front of me, and the fact she still wasn't charging me money, only being interested in helping a friend of a friend that she felt was in trouble, made me really start to think there was something to her power after all. My body rejected terms like spirit guides,

Upon moving into the orphanage as a newly teenager, I was quickly pulled into the street world of drugs and petty crime. I frequently got in trouble with police and was labelled a troublemaker. Youth workers and child councilors were assigned to me and I was forced into appointments. Most support workers are actually crazier than the people they're helping. They were only attracted to the job as a way of dealing with their own neurosis and because they weren't smart enough to go to university or

Something was spooking me and I refused to believe it was Marie's reading. I refused to believe I was cursed. And yet Monday had been off, there was no other way to put it. Tuesday morning I stepped outside to get the mail and across the road, behind a side-gate a black Great Dane was barking incessantly – at me. Something about it was hauntingly transfixing; I scurried quickly back into the house. My parents were in the kitchen. Dad in his suit by the granite counter-top, typing a work emai

Sitting on a wall-shelf above my bed is a book with a pentagram on its cover, the Satanic Bible by Anton LaVey. It's the only book I own that I couldn't get through, unlike the stacks of other crime thrillers. I have a very short attention span and nothing maintains my interest for very long. Nothing except reading about murderers. I always get a thrill and imagine myself as the killer, getting off to the sadistic violence, everyone in the story so obsessed with finding me. When the killer gets

I passed the empty pews of the church, back to my family after a second bathroom break. The white bread from a triangle-cut sandwich was still glued to the roof of my mouth. We'd driven two hours from Brine to make Grandad's funeral, the easiest trip undertaken in all our extended family. It was what the Thorburn's did: flourish and quickly extend new roots elsewhere. Of my three brothers one traveled from the next city over where he was studying microbiology at the best university in the state,

Jake: Sunrise over the panoramic ocean view, cigarette ash fluttering down the curlicue railing. High-rise buildings blazed with reflective dawn light, my legs were up and resting over the muffled sound of traffic far below. I took another drag from the cigarette, the same way I always do: Spitefully. I was a big ball of messy rage. Chaotic and hateful. My therapist tried diagnosing me with a personality disorder – stupid bitch, I wished she'd die soon. She was probably right. Bipolar or

Kyle Thorburn feels unlucky. But could he actually be cursed by another boy who is in love with him? A slighted lover, someone who is trying to kill him?

Thanks guys to all who are leaving feedback! Please review if you liked it 😳 Ceramic Flowers caused more controversy and comments than my first novella did, though it has less followers and reviews. But maybe that will change as the story is only now completed. So far requests for novella number four have been for something lighter and with a less abrupt ending. I actually have lots of online stories, some completed and some not, but they don't compare in quality to my novellas because I put more effort and planning into them. Anyways... my third novella will unfortunately not be light... and I will be revealing the title and summary soon, though the cover should be findable on here if you really can't wait... when you read the name of the story you'll know immediately it's not gonna be light... 🌜🎹🕯️🚬🕛🔍🎙️🔮🔪🥃☕👥👁️🤴🖤

😅 I've considered it. Unfortunately my third novella is by no means lighter than this one. And yes! I have read a memoir written by a diagnosed sociopath and have done a bit of curiousity-driven internet study 👍 Hmm yeah thanks guys! When I can work on novella number four I'll have to focus on making the endings feel less abrupt and leave nothing un-milked 😄 But I'm glad you are enjoying my writing!

Corey Kentwell Cruel reality and sad acceptance. I had blinding clarity as I woke up in bed that morning and it was entirely unpleasant. Zoe had been right of course, but I'd been more than hopeful when it came to my first boyfriend Sebastian. I'd been full-blown delusional. I'd only seen dating and relationships from the outside, my entire high school life. Sure my friends had fought and broken up, but the positives, and my weaknesses and the flaws other people could be hiding, ways of bein

Sebastian Fiddock I'd not been myself for several weeks. The money situation had me unhinged. There was no option that satisfied my apathy, my depressing lack of motivation to exert effort or plan ahead. I hated thinking of the future. So I remained rattled, uncomfortable in my own skin, agitated. Because of this submerged worry I didn't even have my usual patience for Corey and had been snipping at him all the time. He said he wanted to end our relationship, which was a mistake. I made

Corey Kentwell Due to the rural setting of Tuttle most houses were one-storey, there was plenty of room for wide-long expansion. Zoe's house had two-storeys like mine. It was also Victorian-esque, but taller and thinner with sharp spires over rusted grates. The whole thing was unpainted timber and it gave the structure an old, witchy feel. The house still had wide spaces between the wood fencing at the borders, but there was no fencing where the property met the street. Instead if you lo

Sebastian Fiddock Money. Errol's leather notebook didn't contain all of his passwords and I couldn't access anything except for his emails. The hot water to the house had blown and I didn't have any money to get it fixed. His bank card was declining. I had very little funds to spend on food, fuel for my body. The electricity bill was due very soon and I wouldn't be able to pay it, meaning that soon I'd have no hot water or electricity. Errol's animal den of a place would become literally tha

Corey Kentwell My idealism repainted the situation to fit a new narrative. Didn't people who fall in love often say that at first they never saw their lover that way? That they started out as friends, or that he/she wasn't their usual type? And so it was with Sebastian. Even though he frequently did or said things that were strange, I knew he had to be the one for me. When you consider the fact that neither of us knew our parents, the fact that I knew no other gay students in my year, and mo

Sebastian Fiddock For the sake of my own security I'd had to let Errol die. It wasn't about malice. I don't think it was out of anger, though I had been angry. Not in the moment but, I'd just understood all the way until he took his final, retching breath that if I saved him I would be in danger. Errol lay hunched over, a revolting and hideous thing. I left the room and when I came back later his body was cooler and there was no pulse at his neck. I took my fingers away and understoo

Corey Kentwell The next morning I was up before dawn and down by the lake. I'd tried for an early sleep but only managed a few hours, still got up before the sun and snuck out while the sky was only just getting touched by the light. Phasing into royal blue. It was very silly, but this was all born from my sentimental idealism. On occasion I like to do things like walk to the lake at dawn and ponder my life in solitude. Could this be it? When I look back on the days of my life, could thi

Sebastian Fiddock Apathy. I'm a teenager, and there's nothing I disdain more than effort, even at the cost of my life. Family and people nag, always wanting me to do something, fulfil some type of purpose or responsibility, and not understanding that I never asked for any of it. Can't even consider or think of it. I don't want to grow up, or rather grow into this. A society – we live in a society. If I could I'd never see another person again, remain unbothered with just the two, three thing