NEW - NOIR EXTREME WRESTLING
Established: 2025-11-13
Chat room: #Noir
- No holds barred
- Pro wrestling
- Long-term roleplay
- Female / Female
- Extreme violence
In the night underground of New York, the NEW women wrestle for pride, pain, and redemption — no rules, no mercy, no glamour. We are a sisterhood.
93 members
85 stories
0 photos
0 files
Starring
(PREVIOUS: PART X - HANA'S CHALLENGE)
Lauren_James: I slam the door behind me, the sound echoing like a gunshot against the metal lockers. I don't give you a second to breathe, my eyes narrowing into slits as I loom over you. The sight of you battered, swollen, and pathetic only makes my blood boil hotter. "What the fuck was that all about, Hana?" I spit the words out, pacing the small room like a caged animal. "You were absolutely miserable in that ring! You let yourself get dismantled, you let her drag you around like a piece of trash, and then... you apologized to that whore? To *Sara*? Are you completely out of your mind?" I stop pacing and lean down, planting my hands on the bench on either side of you, my face inches from yours. My voice drops to a lethal, hissed whisper, vibrating with suppressed rage. "I need you to tell me right now that this is part of some twisted, long-term plan. Tell me you’re just playing the part, that you’re setting her up for a fall that will be twice as painful. Because if you’re actually suggesting that you’ve gone soft, that you’re ready to crawl back to her, then you’re not just useless, Hana. You’re a mistake." I narrow my eyes, searching your ruined face for a glimmer of the ruthless streak I spent months cultivating. "Well? Give me a reason why I shouldn't just walk out of here and leave you to rot in your own stupidity."
Hana_Jeong: I stumble into the locker room, my body a map of agony, every muscle screaming in protest as I try to hold myself upright. The air in the room is suffocating, heavy with the scent of your rage. Before I can even find a place to sit, you’re on me, your voice a jagged blade tearing through my throbbing headache. I can barely process the words through the ringing in my ears, but the venom behind them is crystal clear. I reach out, my trembling hands clamping onto your shoulders, not to intimidate, but to anchor myself before I collapse. "Lauren... hey, stop!" I gasp, my voice raspy and thin. "Just listen to me... it's over. All of it." I look down at my boots, my breath hitching as I try to find the words to explain a peace you’ll never understand. "I never wanted any of this," I whisper, my eyes stinging with fresh, hot tears. "You pushed me... you drove me to fight my best friend. But seeing her out there... seeing her fight... I realized the truth." I look back up at you, my gaze unwavering despite the exhaustion, my features swollen and stained with blood. "It should never have come to this," I continue, my voice gaining a desperate, quiet strength. "She’s a force of nature, Lauren. She’s a better wrestler than I could ever hope to be. She always will be." I take a shaky, rattling breath, trying to steady your heaving shoulders, trying to push past the wall of anger you’ve built between us. "I'm done with the games, and I'm done with the hate," I say, my tone pleading but final. "Let’s just move on. We have our tag team...let’s focus on that!
Lauren_James: I jerk my shoulders back, violently shaking your hands off me as if your touch burns. The air in the locker room turns frigid, and I let out a sharp, incredulous laugh that sounds more like a snarl. "I can’t believe the shit coming out of your mouth," I spit back, my voice trembling with disbelief. "Are you actually telling me you're throwing in the towel? You’re quitting? You're just going to hand the division over to her after she spent twenty minutes making you look like a pathetic, groveling mess?" I spin around and lash out, my boot connecting with the metal locker with a deafening CRACK that vibrates through the room. I don't even flinch at the pain; the adrenaline of my fury is the only thing keeping me standing. I close the distance between us in a single stride, my face twisting into a mask of pure, unadulterated contempt. I reach out, my fingers curling tightly around the strap of your bralette, yanking it down hard so you’re forced to look directly into my eyes. My gaze is cold, stripping away any shred of the "sisterhood" you think you still possess. "You’re weak, Hana," I hiss, my voice dripping with venom. I lean in so close I can smell the stale sweat and the metallic tang of blood on your skin. "You’re pathetic. That's why you’ll never be a champion because you don't have the stomach to do what it takes to win. You'd rather crawl back to a 'friend' who just broke your face than realize she’s the one standing in the way of everything you’re supposed to have."
Hana_Jeong: I stand perfectly still as you grip me, my breathing shallow, but for the first time, I don’t flinch. I don’t cower. I reach up, my fingers cold and unsteady, and I firmly but deliberately peel your hand away from my shoulder, stripping your grip off my strap. I don't shout. I don't cry. I look at you, and for a moment, I see you for exactly what you are: someone just as broken as me, but without the courage to admit it. "I am what I am, Lauren," I say, my voice raspy but disturbingly steady. "And I’m proud of the path I took to get here. I’m proud that I stood in that ring and faced the truth." I take a half-step forward, my eyes widening, pinning you in place with a gaze that finally lacks fear. "If I’m really as weak as you say, then explain it to me why did you get squashed by her?" I don’t give you time to interrupt. I press the point, the words cutting through the tension in the room. "Why did you spend months throwing me against her like a weapon instead of putting in the work to face her yourself? Was it because you were afraid? Or was it because you knew, deep down, you could never beat her either?" A grim, humorless smile touches my bruised lips as I see the answer flash across your face the recognition that I’ve finally seen through the entire charade. "You know the answer just as well as I do," I finish quietly. I turn my back on you, my body aching with every movement, and I begin to limp toward the equipment rack. "Now, if you’ll excuse me... I need to find an ice pack. My body is failing, but at least my mind is finally clear."
Lauren_James: I freeze, my hand hovering mid-air as I hold your keys, the jagged metal biting into my palm. I watch you limp away, and the urge to shatter you, to watch you crumble one last time, is a wildfire in my veins. I pull back, dropping the keys into my pocket instead. A cold, serpentine smile spreads across my face as the real plan takes root something far more destructive than a single blow to the head. I don’t follow you. I just lean against the lockers, watching your retreating back with pure, unadulterated loathing. "Your biggest mistake," I murmur, my voice a soft, poisonous hiss that cuts through the silence, "is to underestimate me, Hana."
Hana_Jeong: I turn back, my movements stiff and agonizingly slow, and walk until I’m standing right in front of you. I ignore the coldness in your posture and the threat still hanging in the air, choosing instead to look directly into those beautiful, icy blue eyes. "Lauren... please, forget Sara. She isn't the reason our relationship is crumbling," I say, my voice steadying despite the exhaustion. "We can all coexist. The world doesn't have to be this narrow." I look down at my bandaged hands for a second, then lock eyes with you again, searching for even a flicker of the person I used to know. "It's my fault, too. I chose to go along with this, and I regret that more than the loss itself." I take a shaky breath, pressing forward despite the lingering sting of the abuse you inflicted on me just two weeks ago. "Despite everything that happened in this room... I still love you, Lauren. You’re my tag team partner, my housemate, my best friend. You're like a sister to me." I reach out, hovering my hand near your arm but not quite touching you, my expression filled with a desperate, genuine sincerity. "For me, what we have is worth more than any gold belt. Don't you see that? Isn't that enough?"
Lauren_James: I watch you, letting your words hang in the air, a pathetic display of sentimentality that only deepens my disgust. I look at you and see someone so easily manipulated that it’s almost offensive. My teeth ache from how hard I’m clenching my jaw, but I force a soft, convincing smile onto my face, masking the visions of your destruction that are currently playing out in my mind. "Sure, Hana," I say, my voice dripping with a sweetness that doesn't reach my eyes. "Let's take care of those bruises, shall we? You look a mess." I gesture for you to sit on the bench, and you comply, completely blind to the fact that I am already orchestrating your downfall. I pull the first-aid box over with a metallic scrape against the floor. For the next hour, I am the picture of the devoted partner. I move with deliberate, clinical care, dabbing antiseptic onto your split lip, pressing gauze against your purpled skin, and wrapping your ribs with steady hands. You sit there, sighing with relief, leaning into my touch as if I’m actually offering you comfort. You have no idea that every time I touch you, I’m only mapping out the most vulnerable parts of your body the places that will be easiest to break when the time comes.
Hana_Jeong: The morning first light filters through the windows, casting a warm glow over the apartment, and for the first time in months, the weight in my chest is gone. I stretch, my muscles still sore from the cage, but the ache feels like a healing memory rather than a fresh wound. I feel a genuine lightness, a sense of quiet clarity. I roll over, expecting to see you, but the sheets on your side of the bed are cold and smooth. "Must have headed out early," I murmur to myself, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I reach for my phone on the nightstand, and a soft, genuine smile blooms on my face the moment I see Sara’s name. I tap the screen and read the message: "Never forget how amazing you are, Hana 💜". It’s such a simple gesture, yet it grounds me, confirming that the bridge between us is truly rebuilt. With a renewed sense of peace, I climb out of bed and make my way down the mezzanine stairs, wrapping a robe around myself. As I reach the bottom, I stop short. You’re standing by the front door, already dressed, surrounded by three large, overstuffed suitcases. I blink, confused, my smile faltering just a fraction as the domestic calm of the morning is interrupted by the sight of your luggage. "Are we going on a trip?" I ask, my voice filled with genuine surprise. I walk a little closer, trying to read your expression. "You didn't say anything about a getaway. Where are we going?"
Lauren_James: "Yes we are going away, sweet Hana." I approach to you smilling to your little childish t-shirt. "But in different directions." I walk behind you wrapping my arm around your torso and I kiss your collar licking it until your ear.
Hana_Jeong: I close my eyes instinctively, my breath hitching as your tongue traces against my skin, sending a shiver racing down my spine. The confusion in my mind is still there, but your touch makes it hard to focus on anything else. "What do you mean, different directions?" I whisper, my voice soft and laced with a desperate, lingering hope. "Where are we going? Are we going on a new adventure together?"
Lauren_James: I pull a high-voltage taser baton from my jacket, the metal cold and heavy in my hand. I trace it slowly over your back, moving the tip beneath the hem of your t-shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin. "Let's say... you are going to where you belong," I whisper. I press the device hard against your spine and pull the trigger, sending a massive, crackling surge of electricity through your entire body.
Hana_Jeong: The moment the current hits, the world doesn't just go dark it shatters. My muscles lock in a violent, uncontrollable spasm, every nerve fiber in my body erupting into a blinding, white-hot agony that makes my brain feel like it’s being liquified. I can’t scream; the air is scorched from my lungs, and my body jerks in a grotesque, rhythmic dance, slamming against the floorboards as the electricity fries my nervous system. My senses are completely scrambled, replaced by the smell of ozone and the terrifying sound of my own teeth clacking together. Then, the connection breaks, leaving me limp and shuddering on the hardwood. I try to move, to crawl, to even register where I am, but my limbs are dead weight. My face presses into the cold floor, and a thin thread of saliva pools beneath my cheek. Everything is buzzing, static and dark, as I lay there, twitching
Lauren_James: "Oops... I didn't mean to 'shock' you with my words," I laugh, the sound cold and sharp in the quiet apartment. I watch as you struggle to regain your senses, your body twitching against the floor. As you try to pull yourself up, I lose interest in the games. I draw back my foot and drive the reinforced toe of my Doc Marten boot into your ribs, then your shoulder, and then the small of your back. Each kick is heavy and deliberate, a brutal rhythm of bone-jarring force that sends you sprawling further across the floor. I don't stop until you are curled into a ball, whimpering in the wake of my rage.
Hana_Jeong: The breath is kicked clean out of me, leaving me gasping for air that refuses to enter my lungs. Each time your boot connects, my body jolts, the pain radiating from my bruised ribs through every nerve, turning my world into a haze of white agony. I curl into a tight, pathetic ball, my knees pulled up to my chin as I wrap my arms desperately around my stomach, trying to shield myself from the next impact. Hot, jagged sobs wrack my frame, shaking me even harder than the electricity did. I can't speak, I can't defend myself; I can only choke on my own tears and the metallic taste of blood, lying broken and helpless on the floor
Lauren_James: I grab a fistful of your hair, dragging you up and slamming your spine against the wall with enough force to make you gasp. You are limp, barely able to keep your head up, so I pin both of your wrists above your head with my left hand, anchoring you against the plaster. I look at your tear-streaked face, my expression devoid of any mercy. "Oh, poor Hana," I sneer, my voice a jagged edge. "You wanted to be a mom, right? I’m afraid after this, you won't be able to make any babies." I draw back my right fist and drive it into your abdomen, once, twice, three times each punch heavier than the last. I channel every drop of my hatred into my knuckles, landing vicious, sickening blows squarely into your lower belly, feeling the sickening give of your muscles as I systematically destroy your stomach.
Hana_Jeong: The room spins in a blurred, nauseating haze as you release me, and I collapse forward, my knees hitting the floor with a dull thud. My entire core feels like it has been hollowed out, replaced by a searing, unbearable heat. I try to gasp for air, but a thick, metallic warmth bubbles up in my throat, and I choke, spitting blood onto the hardwood. I remain on my knees, swaying unsteadily, my hands clutching my abdomen in a futile attempt to hold myself together. My vision is fracturing; I blink, but the world refuses to focus. "W-why?" I wheeze, the word barely a whisper, broken by a harsh, wet cough. "I... I don't understand..." I’m shivering violently, the shock of the assault clashing with the agony of my injuries. I am completely broken, barely conscious, staring down at the blood pooling between my knees, still unable to comprehend why you are doing this to me.
Lauren_James: I crouch down right in front of you, my face inches from yours, smelling the copper tang of the blood you're coughing up. I reach out and yank your head back by your hair, forcing you to look at me, baring your throat. "You don't need to understand anything, Hana," I hiss. I lash out, backhanding you across the cheek with the full force of my arm. The metal of my rings bites into your skin, tearing a shallow gash across your face. Before you can even react, I snap my hand back, striking you a second time with the back of my hand, the rings catching your jaw
Hana_Jeong: The force of your rings slices into my skin, and the world tilts violently as you yank my head back. The backhand strikes are blinding, sending a fresh wave of pain through my jaw and ringing in my ears. I go limp, trying to let my body fall away from your grip to escape the pressure on my scalp, my neck straining as you hold tight. I can barely see through the swelling, my vision swimming with hot, stinging tears. "Why, Lauren?" I choke out, my voice thin, ragged, and trembling with a grief that hurts worse than the physical abuse. I look up at you, desperate for an answer to the carnage you've made of my life, my chest heaving as I struggle to draw a clean breath.
Lauren_James: "Oh... it’s complicated," I say, my voice dripping with cold mockery as I stare down at your broken, trembling form. I don't give you the satisfaction of a real answer; you don't deserve the truth. I reach down and unbuckle my leather belt, the heavy metal buckle clinking against the floor. I double it over, wrapping the thick, stiff leather tightly around my fist until it’s a makeshift bludgeon. A cruel smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth as I watch you cower. "Come here, bitch," I growl. I lunge forward, grabbing you by the collar to keep you from falling away, and I begin to drive my reinforced fist into your forehead. I don't hold back, landing punch after punch, the heavy leather and steel buckle tearing through your skin until your vision is obscured by the hot, dark crimson streaming down your face.
Hana_Jeong: The world is turning into a smear of red. I can feel the hot, sticky liquid cascading down my forehead, stinging my eyes and blinding me as it flows over my brows and down my cheeks. It drips steadily, tapping against the hardwood floor with a sickening, rhythmic sound that marks every second of this nightmare. My head is pulsing, a dull, thunderous roar that drowns out everything else. I try to lift a shaking hand to wipe it away, but my muscles won't obey, and my fingers only brush against the warmth of my own blood. I slump further, my spirit completely shattered by the intensity of your brutality, unable to even muster a whimper as the iron scent of blood fills my nose and I watch my life pooling on the floor beneath me.
Lauren_James: "Pathetic bitch," I sneer, disgusted by how easily you broke. I shove you face-first onto the floor, your body thumping heavily against the wood. You are sprawled out, belly down, completely at my mercy. I stand over you, stretching the leather belt taut between my hands, the heavy metal buckle dangling like a predator's tooth. "You proved to be useless and worse," I spit down at you, my voice cold and hollow. "Your constant, desperate effort to be liked by everyone... it made me sick. It made me hate you, bitch." Without another word, I draw back and lash out, whipping the belt across your back with all my strength. The leather whistles through the air before the metallic tip bites deep into your skin, leaving a jagged, stinging trail of agony with every single strike.
Hana_Jeong: "AAAAAAHHHHHH!" I scream, the sound tearing from my throat as the metal tip of the belt slices into my back. It feels like molten lead is being poured into the gashes, a searing, white-hot fire that consumes my entire nervous system. I convulse against the floor, my fingers clawing into the wood, trying to crawl away, but my body is failing me. "PLEASE STOP..." I sob, the words barely audible over my own gasping, broken breaths. Before I can even try to pull myself into a defensive position, the belt whistles through the air again, biting into my already ruined skin with sickening force. The renewed agony makes my vision flare white. "IN GOD'S NAME WHY, LAUREN... WHY?" I wail, my voice cracked, desperate, and shattering under the weight of your cruelty.
Lauren_James: "Ok..." I mutter, my voice chillingly calm as I pull the belt from your back and slide it back through the loops of my jeans. I stand over you, my shadow looming large, before I kneel down and shove my knees against your sides, trapping your broken frame between my legs. I reach down, grabbing a massive handful of your hair and yanking your head back violently, forcing you to crane your neck and look up at me. "Because I'm Lauren Van Zeller," I sneer, my eyes locked onto yours, burning with a mix of arrogance and deep-seated venom. "And because you are just a no-one Asian girl, and I am not supposed to want to be like you." The admission hangs in the air, sharp and twisted, fueled by a jealousy that has curdled into pure hatred. With a sudden, explosive motion, I release your hair and slam your face directly into the hard floor, the sound of your skin and bone connecting with the wood echoing through the room.
Hana_Jeong: The impact against the floor is the final blow to my consciousness; my nose feels shattered, and the world is a spinning, black abyss. Just as I think I’m going to lose my grip on reality entirely, the sharp, rhythmic ding-dong of the doorbell cuts through the silence of the room. My heart leaps a frantic, desperate pulse. The neighbor. They must have heard my screams. They heard me. I try to force my lungs to expand, desperate to drag in enough air to let out a cry for help. "H-h..." I wheeze, but it only comes out as a wet, ragged gurgle. My throat is constricted by panic and the sheer trauma of the beating, and instead of a scream, I only manage a pathetic, shaky exhale. My fingers scrape feebly against the floor, my eyes wide and bloodshot, fixed on the door, praying that someone will burst through it and pull me out of this nightmare before you can finish what you started.
Lauren_James: I stand up, wiping a stray drop of your blood from my knuckles, and walk over to the door. I throw it open, revealing two large, menacing figures standing in the hallway. "Finally," I snap, stepping aside to let them in. The two men walk into the loft, their faces unreadable. These are the "robbers" I hired to finalize this to strip you of your dignity before they finish the job. "Break everything," I command, gesturing wildly around the apartment. "Steal whatever you want. Make it look like a complete wreck." They immediately set to work, smashing lamps against the walls and overturning furniture. The sound of shattering glass and splintering wood is deafening. One of the men pauses, looking down at your broken, trembling body on the floor, and tilts his head toward me. "What do we do with her?" he asks, his voice gravelly and devoid of empathy. I don't even glance back at you. I simply light a cigarette and lean against the doorframe, watching the carnage. "Rape her and then beat her, or kill her," I say with a shrug, my tone as casual as if I were discussing the weather. "Your choice. I don't care." As they move toward you, I turn my back on the room, exhaling a plume of smoke, waiting to hear your final cries as they begin the destruction of your life.
Hana_Jeong: I lie there, broken and barely clinging to consciousness, my entire world becoming a graveyard of things I loved. Through eyes swollen shut, I watch the carnage in a daze of pure, soul-crushing despair. My plants the ones I spent hours tending to, are crushed into the floorboards; my drawings, the only pieces of my soul I ever dared to show anyone, are ripped to shreds and scattered like trash; my books, my little korean artifacts, everything is ravaged, is smashed into kindling. Each crash, each snap of wood, is a strike against my heart. I want to die. I just want to stop existing, to evaporate into the air and leave this nightmare behind. My body is a map of agony, but the ache in my chest is worse. Then, through the haze, I see you. You ignore the destruction you orchestrated and casually head up to the mezzanine; where we shared our secrets, our laughter, and what I thought was our love is now just another place for you to discard me. Seeing you ascend those stairs feels like a final, cold blade in my back. I am left here in the ruin, helpless, terrified, and utterly alone, sobbing into the puddle of my own blood as the men turn their attention toward me.
Lauren_James: I hear one of the men bark, "C'mon, Miss Lauren, we need to be quick," but I’m in no rush. I descend the stairs slowly, my boots clicking sharply against the wood, holding your life in my hands, your journal in one, and a small box of photos in the other. I settle onto the arm of an overturned chair, right in front of where you lie shivering on the floor. I flip open the journal, scanning the pages with a bored expression. "So cute... so cute..." I mock, tossing a photograph of us onto the floor. "Photos of us... oops." I wrinkle my nose, feigning confusion. " Well I don't understand a shit of your stupid language." With a cruel, deliberate smile, I begin to tear the pages. RIIIIP. The sound is sharp and final. I rip out page after page, destroying the memories you’ve meticulously documented since you left Korea. Hundreds of hours of your thoughts, your fears, your homesickness, and your history flutter down like confetti over your broken body, turning years of your life into nothing more than paper scraps and shredded ink.
Hana_Jeong: Seeing the pages of my life every memory, every confession, every trace of who I was before I met you floating down like snow around me, something inside me finally snaps. It isn't just pain anymore; it’s a pure, blinding, radioactive rage that cuts through the shock. You’ve taken everything. You’ve taken my body, my home, and now you are murdering the only parts of my soul that were still intact. A final, desperate surge of adrenaline floods my system. I don't care that I can barely stand; I don't care that I’m broken. I let out a guttural, primal scream "ARRRGGGGH!" and lunge at you, fingers hooked like claws, intent on wiping that smug, cruel expression off your face. But I don't even get close. Before my fingers can touch you, the henchmen react. Huge hands clamp onto my shoulders and arms with enough force that I hear the sickening stretch of my own skin and muscle. They yank me back violently, the sheer velocity of the movement jarring my spine and threatening to tear my flesh. Then, the world erupts in stars. One of the men delivers a crushing, calculated punch directly to my temple, and my brain slams against the inside of my skull. The rage evaporates instantly, replaced by a sudden, terrifying rush of darkness as I go limp, my consciousness failing me once again.
Lauren_James: I watch with cold amusement as you go limp in the henchman's grip, your pathetic attempt at rebellion ending as quickly as it started. I don't even flinch. I just turn my attention back to the box, my fingers sifting through the glossy prints. "Oh, c'mon, Hana. It's just paper," I say, my voice dripping with false sympathy. I pull out a photo, squinting at it. "Let's see what we have here... Oh, look. A picture of you and that bitch who beat you yesterday. And another one... and another. with the spanish guy who dumped on you" I drop them onto the pile of torn journal pages, unimpressed. I reach into my pocket and pull out my lighter, the flame snapping to life with a sharp *click*. I hold the fire to the corner of the photos, watching as the edges curl, blacken, and turn to ash, the faces of the people you care about dissolving into nothingness. The heat warms my face, but it isn't enough. I stand up and walk over to the bedside table, where a frame catches my eye. I pick it up, turning it over in my hands. It’s the one photo you carry everywhere, specially in your matches. I trace the glass with my thumb, a wicked, jagged smile spreading across my face as I look down at you. "And what do we have here, little orphan? The last link to the people who raised you? Let's see how well they burn."
Hana_Jeong: The world is dark and swimming, but the sight of my parents' photograph in your hand pierces through the fog of my concussion like a lightning strike. My body is a ruin, my ribs feel like shattered glass, and I can barely keep my eyes open, but the sound of my own sobbing is choked off by a sudden, jagged surge of defiance. I push myself up, my arms trembling violently, my voice cracking under the weight of my agony and pure, undiluted hatred. "Lauren..." I rasp, spitting a mixture of saliva and blood onto the floor near your boots. "You fucking demon." I heave a ragged breath, staring at the lighter in your hand, my eyes wide and frantic, reflecting the orange glow of the flame. "Just kill me," I sob, the plea raw and desperate. "I beg you... end this now. Because if you don't... if you leave me breathing... I promise you, I won't stop. I will crawl through hell if I have to, but I won't stop until I hurt you exactly like you’ve hurt me. Every single scar, every piece of me you’ve broken... I will make sure you feel it, too." I collapse back down, defeated by the physical pain but still glaring at you, my spirit refusing to be completely extinguished, even as I wait to see if you'll burn my last connection to who I used to be.
Lauren_James: I let out a sharp, jagged laugh that echoes off the ruined walls, pacing around you like a predator enjoying the kill. "You won't do anything, bitch," I sneer, looking down at your pathetic, trembling form. "I'm not killing you. That would be a mercy, and you don't deserve mercy." I crouch down right in your line of sight, holding the photo of your parents between my thumb and forefinger. I lean in close, my breath hitting your blood-smeared face. "You will live," I whisper, my voice vibrating with malice. "And you will look in the mirror every single day for the rest of your miserable life. You will see every scar, every gash, every failure, and you will remember me every time you try to close your eyes." I begin to tear the photo, slowly, agonizingly, starting at the edges of your parents' faces. I let the pieces fall like dead leaves onto your chest, one by one. "Don't worry," I add, my voice dripping with cold, calculated cruelty. "I’m sure they’re looking down right now, ashamed of the pathetic, useless loser you’ve become." I stand up, looking down at the scattered remains of your history, and gesture toward the door. "Leave her. Let her sit in the wreckage of her own life."
Hana_Jeong: The physical agony has finally numbed, swallowed whole by a mental anguish so absolute it feels like my soul is dissolving. My vision is no longer filled with your face, your malice, or the wreckage of the apartment; it has been replaced by ghosts. You broke my soul.
Lauren_James: I was walking away but sudenly something comes to my mind and I turn back. "Lauren, she's gone," one of the men mutters, prodding your limp body with the toe of his boot. He frowns, his brow furrowing as he presses two fingers to your neck. "Wait... I feel her pulse. She’s just fainted. Lauren, we have to get out of here" I don't leave yet. My work here isn't finished not by a long shot. I reach into my back pocket and pull out a pair of sharp, heavy-duty scissors, the blades catching the dim light of the room. I kneel beside you. "She's not going anywhere," I hiss, a sick, twisted smile playing on my lips. I reach out and gather your beautiful, long black hair into my fist, pulling it taut. With agonizing slowness, I begin to hack away at it. I don't just cut it; I mangle it, slicing ragged, uneven chunks off, letting the dark locks fall like shredded silk over your blood-streaked cheeks. I caress the remnants that remain, treating your humiliation as if it were a delicate art form. I stand up, tossing the scissors onto the pile of torn journal pages. I turn toward the door, my coat billowing behind me. "I'm going," I say, my voice cold and dismissive. I don't even look back at you, slumped and butchered on the floor. "Rape her, leave her marked and show no mercy. She's a worthless whore." I walk out the door, the lock clicking shut behind me, leaving you in the wreckage of your home and your life, completely at the mercy of the two men who are now stepping toward you with dark, predatory intent.
Hana_Jeong: The darkness is closing in, a heavy, velvet shroud pulling me under, but the physical sting on my scalp is a cruel anchor tethering me to the world for just a few seconds longer. My eyelids flicker, heavy as lead, and through the slits, I watch the back of your coat disappear through the doorway the final image of my tormentor leaving me to my grave. The silence that follows is thick with the scent of ozone, burnt paper, and iron. I expect the worst, but then, the air shifts. "Man... I can't do this," one of the voices echoes, sounding distant and muffled, as if I’m listening from beneath deep water. "Let's just move. Now." "Poor woman..." the other replies, his voice laced with a tremor of genuine, nauseating remorse. "Hell with the money. We did a monstrosity to her. We’re leaving." I hear their boots scuffing against the floorboards, heavy and hurried, retreating toward the exit. They don't slam the door; they leave it wide open, a gaping, rectangular frame of cool, indifferent hallway light that offers the only warmth I’ll ever know again. The last of my strength ebbs away, leaking out of me as surely as the blood that has pooled beneath my body. The sounds of the city outside the distant hum of traffic, a siren somewhere blocks away fade into a low, rhythmic static. My heart, which has been beating a frantic, terrified rhythm, begins to slow, lulled by the onset of shock. They could used me, I wouldn't feel anything because you killed me.
Hana_Jeong: I don't know how I'm still moving. My body is a ruin, a vessel of agony that screams with every pathetic inch I drag myself forward. The floorboards are slick with my own blood, leaving a dark trail behind me as I crawl. The terrace is so far away, yet it feels like the only destination left in a world that has stripped me of everything else. I reach the threshold of the balcony, the night air hitting my shredded, shivering skin. I pull myself up, my fingers gripping the cold metal railing. My vision is fractured, swimming in nauseating waves of black and grey. I have nothing left. That thought isn't even sad anymore; it’s just a hollow, undeniable fact. Nature selected me to be weak. I was never meant to survive a predator like her. I am miles from the soil that birthed me, a stranger in a land of monsters, with no hope, no history, and no future. I just want to leave. I want to shed this broken skin and go back to the warmth. Suddenly, the cold, harsh reality of the loft fades. The screaming in my head dies down, replaced by the soft, golden light of memories.
Hana_Jeong: I’m back at the Han River. I can feel the grass beneath my feet. I see the ball arching through the air, their laughter ringing out like bells as they run to catch it. I see the candles of my last birthday, their faces soft, radiant, and full of a love that didn't know the world could be this cruel. They are standing there in the bleachers, watching me play, cheering my name, their voices shielding me from the noise of the city. They are here. They must be. They’ve come to pick me up, just like they used to after school, to take me to the park, to eat an ice cream... to take me home where I am safe. "엄마... 아빠..." (Mom... Dad...) I whisper the words, my voice a faint, rasping ghost of sound. As I reach out to them, my hands trembling against the railing, the world suddenly lurches and I lay fainted on the terrace floor. The faces of my parents seem to reach back for me, and for a fleeting, beautiful second, I wonder if they are the ones holding me back, preventing me from crossing that final edge to put an end to my life.
Published: 12 days ago, viewed 56 times.
Chanyotaaa
5 days agoHard to believe Lauren did such violent and brutal things to Hana! (Amazing scenario here girls! Thanks for your wonderful story!)
Mila Johnson
10 days agoI really loved Hana and Lauren as a tag team. They are so different yet they complemented each other so good. Like a balance. I know it's stupid but I I'm in tears now, I never imagined this twist and I can't accept that Lauren turned against her true best friend Hana. I don't know if I want to read the next chapters. Please don't get misunderstood. You both are incredibly creative and good writers, but i don't want to see what's going to happen next. Really this was a big shock for me, I was truly believing that Hana and Lauren could work out what they did wrong but this is beyond imaginable. After all Hana and Lauren gone through like the ECW match, their trip, etc. But again congratulations you are both superb roleplayers.
Hana Jeong
8 days ago(In reply to this)
Hi there. First of all, please don't ever think it's stupid to cry over a story. Crying just means you have a beautiful, empathetic heart, and you truly connected with these characters. As storytellers, making you feel that connection is the highest compliment we could ever receive, so thank you for opening your heart to us.
We completely understand why you are feeling shocked and sad. We loved their friendship too! Everything they shared was very real and honest. But sometimes, in storytelling, we have to explore the darker, sadder parts of human nature. We wanted to show how fragile relationships can be when someone lets jealousy, anger, or bad choices take over, like Lauren did. It’s a tragedy, and it is supposed to feel heartbreaking that their bond was destroyed.
Please do not worry or apologize about needing to step away. Reading should be something you enjoy, and if a story becomes too heavy or painful, it is perfectly okay to close the book. You can always hold onto the good memories of their tag-team days!
Thank you so much for your incredibly kind words about our roleplaying and writing ❤️
Avery Breaux
10 days agoGuys, you really deliver amazing stories! Congratulations! P.S.: I hope Hana may have her vengeance!
Josh Beast
11 days agoJesus Christ…