Dark Fiction Quotes
Quotes tagged as "dark-fiction"
Showing 1-30 of 102
“We were just us, broken and bruised, fucked-up and messy, and together we were everything we never thought we could be.”
― The Dark Light of Day
― The Dark Light of Day
“I fell asleep that night in the arms of a killer. I'd never slept better.”
― The Dark Light of Day
― The Dark Light of Day
“I'm afraid I'm going to look at your perfect face, and you're finally going to see me as the monster I am.”
― The Dark Light of Day
― The Dark Light of Day
“Like the moon shining bright
Up high with all its grace,
I can only show you at night
And hide half of my face.”
― Pierrot & Columbine
Up high with all its grace,
I can only show you at night
And hide half of my face.”
― Pierrot & Columbine
“Sick, twisted Abby was in love with the sick, twisted, beautiful Jake.”
― The Dark Light of Day
― The Dark Light of Day
“The world as we know it, cruel, dark and hopeless, have gifted us one more reason why, as a species, shoud we accept the fact that we're living in absolute ignorance. One more chunk of food for our fears and desperations. One more nightmarish and haunting thought for our dreams.”
― Svetioničar - Pritajeno zlo
― Svetioničar - Pritajeno zlo
“The surge of his ardour swept through him in climatic release, filling her womb with his final, mortal sowing.”
― The Woman of the Well
― The Woman of the Well
“Conflict was what had mended their hearts, it was in their nature to be discordant before finding harmony.”
― Bloodlines and Shrines
― Bloodlines and Shrines
“I pull the fire escape door open, scoop my eyeshadow palette off the ground and slip back inside. For a moment, I pause in the corridor and catch my breath. Adrenaline is surging through me. Rage. A normal woman would call the police at this point. But a normal woman would never have been paranoid enough in the first place to pretend to go to the toilet, only to sneak out of the fire escape and spy through a window to watch what her date does when he has five minutes alone with her drink. Nope. A normal woman would have gone to the loo, done a pee and topped up her lipstick. Or she’d have texted a friend about her hot date, feeling giddy with hope and excitement.
Now, let’s think about what would have happened to a normal woman.
A normal woman would have headed back to her date, smiling prettily, before sitting down and drinking her drugged drink. Then, a short while later, that normal woman would have started feeling far more drunk than she normally does after just a couple of drinks, but she’d probably blame herself. She’d wonder if maybe she’d drunk too much. Or maybe she’d blame herself for having not eaten earlier in the day because she didn’t want to look fat in her dress. Or maybe she’d blame herself because that’s just what she does; she blames herself. And then, just as she started to feel woozy and a bit confused, her date would take her outside for some fresh air and she’d be grateful to him. She’d think he was caring and responsible, when really, he was just whisking her out of sight, before she started to look less like she was drunk and more like she’d been drugged. And then the next thing she’d know, she’d be staggering into the back of a cab and her date would be asking her to tell the driver where she lived. And when she’d barely be able to get the words out and her date made a joke to the driver about how drunk she was, she’d feel small and embarrassed. And then she’d find herself slumping into her date’s open arms, flopping against his big manly body, and she’d feel grateful once more that this man was taking care of her and getting her home safe.
And then, once the taxi slowed down and she blinked her eyes open and found they’d pulled up outside her flat, she’d notice in a fleeting moment of clarity that when the driver asked for the fare, her date thrust two crisp ten-pound notes towards him in a weirdly premeditated move, as though he’d known this moment was going to happen all along. As though he’d had the cash lined up, the plan set, and she’d feel something. Something. But then she’d be staggering out of the taxi, even sloppier than when she got in, and her legs would be buckling, and she’d cling to her date for support, her make-up now smudged, her eyes half-closed, her hair messy.
She’d look a state and he’d ask her which flat was hers, and she’d walk with him to her front door, to the flat where she lives alone. To the place that’s full of books and cute knick-knacks from charity shops and colourful but inexpensive clothes. She’d unlock her front door, her hand sliding drunkenly over the lock, and she’d lead him into the place she’s been using as a base to try to get ahead in life, and then he’d look around, keen-eyed, until he spotted her bedroom and he’d draw her in.
And then all of a sudden he’d be in her bedroom and she wouldn’t be able to remember if she’d asked him back or not or quite how this happened, and it would all be moving so fast and her thoughts would be unable to keep up – they’d keep sliding away – and he’d be kissing her and she’d be unsure what was happening as he pulled off her dress and she’d wonder, did she ask for this? Does she want this? Has she been a ‘slut’ again? But the thoughts would be weak, they’d keep falling away and he’d be confident and he’d be certain and he’d be good-looking and he’d be pulling off her bra and taking off her knickers. He’d be pushing himself inside her.
The next day, he’d be gone by the time she woke up. She’d be blocked, unmatched...”
―
Now, let’s think about what would have happened to a normal woman.
A normal woman would have headed back to her date, smiling prettily, before sitting down and drinking her drugged drink. Then, a short while later, that normal woman would have started feeling far more drunk than she normally does after just a couple of drinks, but she’d probably blame herself. She’d wonder if maybe she’d drunk too much. Or maybe she’d blame herself for having not eaten earlier in the day because she didn’t want to look fat in her dress. Or maybe she’d blame herself because that’s just what she does; she blames herself. And then, just as she started to feel woozy and a bit confused, her date would take her outside for some fresh air and she’d be grateful to him. She’d think he was caring and responsible, when really, he was just whisking her out of sight, before she started to look less like she was drunk and more like she’d been drugged. And then the next thing she’d know, she’d be staggering into the back of a cab and her date would be asking her to tell the driver where she lived. And when she’d barely be able to get the words out and her date made a joke to the driver about how drunk she was, she’d feel small and embarrassed. And then she’d find herself slumping into her date’s open arms, flopping against his big manly body, and she’d feel grateful once more that this man was taking care of her and getting her home safe.
And then, once the taxi slowed down and she blinked her eyes open and found they’d pulled up outside her flat, she’d notice in a fleeting moment of clarity that when the driver asked for the fare, her date thrust two crisp ten-pound notes towards him in a weirdly premeditated move, as though he’d known this moment was going to happen all along. As though he’d had the cash lined up, the plan set, and she’d feel something. Something. But then she’d be staggering out of the taxi, even sloppier than when she got in, and her legs would be buckling, and she’d cling to her date for support, her make-up now smudged, her eyes half-closed, her hair messy.
She’d look a state and he’d ask her which flat was hers, and she’d walk with him to her front door, to the flat where she lives alone. To the place that’s full of books and cute knick-knacks from charity shops and colourful but inexpensive clothes. She’d unlock her front door, her hand sliding drunkenly over the lock, and she’d lead him into the place she’s been using as a base to try to get ahead in life, and then he’d look around, keen-eyed, until he spotted her bedroom and he’d draw her in.
And then all of a sudden he’d be in her bedroom and she wouldn’t be able to remember if she’d asked him back or not or quite how this happened, and it would all be moving so fast and her thoughts would be unable to keep up – they’d keep sliding away – and he’d be kissing her and she’d be unsure what was happening as he pulled off her dress and she’d wonder, did she ask for this? Does she want this? Has she been a ‘slut’ again? But the thoughts would be weak, they’d keep falling away and he’d be confident and he’d be certain and he’d be good-looking and he’d be pulling off her bra and taking off her knickers. He’d be pushing himself inside her.
The next day, he’d be gone by the time she woke up. She’d be blocked, unmatched...”
―
“Do you know how sick with love I am for you? No… Of course you don’t. All you want to do is get away from me. I revolt you right?”
― Redemption
― Redemption
“Her mind is a rotten, infected lump, but her heart beats strong with the pulse of dangerous dreams.”
― Girl of Dust and Smoke
― Girl of Dust and Smoke
“We are all born into different worlds, and you survived your world the only way you could.”
― Girl of Dust and Smoke
― Girl of Dust and Smoke
“It bloomed in the bleak soil where her darkest dreams were born. Dire petals. Bloody thorns. An emotion perfectly cultivated. Sculpted with the violence she adored.”
― The Bloody Rose
― The Bloody Rose
“High above the Crescent City, the youngest grandson of the mayor began to scream bloody murder into a sky bruised with clouds.”
― The Beautiful
― The Beautiful
“Sometimes, we like to imagine that we know a person because of how they used to be. Sadly, the reality of this is that people change. They love you at some point then 'move on' and resent you for the rest of your life." —Birds On The Wall”
―
―
“[She] said ‘blood does not wash off’ and she was right. Blood does not forget, either. Blood congealed and crusted and stained evermore. Blood knew what it was like to be free.”
― Non Omnis Moriar
― Non Omnis Moriar
“Winston kept his back turned to the telescreen. It was safer, though, as he well knew, even a back can be revealing.”
― 1984
― 1984
“This isn’t like the nose. That came off, like it was being picked at, pulled, tugged like taffy. This is from the inside. I can feel it when I’m going to sleep. Through the optic nerves. Drinking, gently, slowly, like brandy punch through a straw.”
― Helpmeet
― Helpmeet
“Eons of quietness and displaced discipline
nourish madness. It is the fragilities that one
never accepted that make one into a devil
that no one recognizes.”
― I Saw The Devil
nourish madness. It is the fragilities that one
never accepted that make one into a devil
that no one recognizes.”
― I Saw The Devil
“I have often remarked that it is hardest of all to live with people who are untruthful and insincere.”
―
―
“She recreated her funeral in front of her family where they all were sobbing harder than ever.”
― Loving her ruptured soul!!: Part 2
― Loving her ruptured soul!!: Part 2
“Hearts on the shore were overconfident enough to take the chills and thrills.”
― Strangers to the Quietus!: The Three Rangers of the Mortal Coil...
― Strangers to the Quietus!: The Three Rangers of the Mortal Coil...
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