Danika Mori
1 Published Story
Danika Mori's Book and Story
Behind you, Mate
Horror
"Behind you, Mate?!"
Everything started when Darelia got transferred to a catholic school with supernatural creatures. Being known to be dumb from birth, no one knew her source, except that she grew up with her stepmother and stepsister.
Bullied and tortured without any supernatural power, she became a tool in the hands of her sisters. Things took an eerie turn when she started hearing voices in her head, silent feathery footsteps behind her, seeing wet sloshy marks in her room, and shadowy figures in her dream.
Her blind search for help threw her into the claws of a teacher, a supposed helper who'd transform into Darelia's exact replica at night.
Darelia started seeing reflections of a particular man in the mirror, a reflection that vanishes before she looks back - her vampire mate.
The mirror man, "Behind you, Mate!!" That voice, that same voice.
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The Night I Hunted a Killer, They Hunted Me
Gavin At East Coast University, being Valedictorian wasn't an honor; it was a death sentence.
Every year, the top graduate met a horrific end, fueling whispers of a chilling campus curse.
Three years ago, my brilliant sister, Claire, delivered her valedictory speech, radiating hope and promising to break this very curse.
But just a week later, she was found dead, an alleged suicide, leaving behind a cold, printed note: "Allie, never pursue peak glory."
Claire always called me "Allie-cat," never just "Allie;" I knew instantly the note was a fake, a twisted cover-up for her murder.
Consumed by grief and an unyielding desire for justice, I spent three years meticulously climbing the academic ladder, earning the top spot, becoming this year's Valedictorian to expose the truth and lure her real killer into the light.
The night before graduation, I went live online, publicly challenging the murderer, declaring Claire was slain and not the first victim of this academic reckoning.
But instead of catching *them*, the police stormed my dorm, arresting *me*, accusing me of being the serial killer responsible for all the other Valedictorian deaths.
Then my own mother, face masked and frantic, burst in, screaming a desperate confession, trying to take the fall for *my* alleged crimes, hinting at a horrifying family secret far deeper than I could ever comprehend.
How could I, the one tirelessly hunting the truth, suddenly become the monstrous subject of a nationwide witch hunt, framed as the cold, calculating killer I sought to unmask?
Shoved into the back of a police car, the only image seared into my mind was my mother's face—pale, terrified, a silent plea begging me to finally unravel the devastating truth she couldn't speak aloud.
Then, chaos erupted: a deliberate, violent car crash, my chance to escape the clutches of a corrupt system and dark accusations.
Now, on the run, I chase the elusive whispers of Mom’s hidden fears and a mysterious clue from my long-dead father’s past, determined to unearth the real answers that lie buried beneath the surface of my sister’s tragic death. ENRAGED SOUL
otu Harriet Laura was a bold, courageous, gorgeous, intelligent young lady who always stood out for herself. She always fought for her right and never allowed anyone to look down on her , her family nor her friends.
She was known as the most brilliant and talented student in her class. This irritated some of her mates and led to the plot of her attack to tame her.
" Hold her, let's see how her intelligence works this time...", Ben exclaimed, landing a huge slap on her cheek.
Patrick and Fred held her tightly, chuckling and teasing.
They molested and bullied her until she passed out.
" Wait, Ben, I think we killed her....", Fred cried
" Shut up, what do you know? She's just doing that to scare us...."
" No, Ben...I think he's right...we killed her..."
" Oh, my God...what should we do..."
Join me on this journey while we find out what they did to her body and the outcome of their action.
ENRAGED SOUL;The revenge of a traumatized girl My Family's Faith, My Bloody Fate
Gavin It started on the one-year anniversary of my return, a day meant for joy.
Instead, my family, devout and God-fearing, brutally murdered me.
My brother, my protector, became a "defiler" screaming monster, my father, a man of God, cut off my hand with a rusty saw, and my mother, once overjoyed, called me an "abomination."
They threw my bleeding body into a silo, sealing the hatch, and as I died, I only had one question: Why?
It was the locket. The small, carved wooden locket my sister, Esther, had given me moments before, a "welcome home" gift that instantly turned my loving family into rabid killers.
Somehow, I woke up. It' s the same day, the same anniversary. Esther is coming up the stairs, the locket in her hand, about to give me the gift that will trigger their bloodlust again.
This time, I refuse. But Esther is cunning, and soon, I'm dodging my family's crazed attacks, desperately trying to expose their dark beliefs to the authorities. They look at me like I' m simply a troubled girl with an overzealous family.
Knowing the law won't stop their fanaticism, I have no choice but to use their own twisted faith against them, no matter the cost, to finally break free. I Tamed the Monster He Sent
Gavin The last thing I saw was Thunder’s bloodied jaws, closing in on me.
My daughter, Sophia, lay broken a few feet away, already gone.
Pain, then darkness.
Then, with a gasp, I bolted upright, my heart hammering like a drum.
I was back on the same rough porch, facing the same smug smirk of Old John.
At the end of his chain was Thunder, the Australian Cattle Dog who had butchered my child and me.
“Heard you were back in town, Isabella,” Old John rasped, his voice a cruel mockery of a welcome.
“Brought you a little housewarming gift,” he added, pulling the chain as Thunder whined, straining to reach me, just like that first time.
The memory crashed over me: Thunder’s lunge, the searing agony as his teeth tore my thigh, the hot gush of blood, and then, Sophia’s petrified screams followed by chilling silence as he turned to her.
Old John had known my paralyzing fear of dogs, yet he had specifically brought this hulking beast to torment me.
He had laughed when I pleaded, ignoring the danger, using the dog as his personal weapon.
Every horrifying detail, every agonizing moment of Sophia’s brutal death and my own demise, flooded my mind with chilling clarity.
But this time, as Thunder lunged forward once more, I forced my trembling legs to stop.
No. Not again.
This time, things would be different. Reborn to Reign: A Mother's Fury
Gavin My name is Sarah, and I remember the cold.
Not the chill of winter, but the stainless-steel table against my back.
My sons, Michael and Gabriel, were gone, their screams replaced by silence.
My husband David, blinded by ambition, led us to that abandoned clinic.
His sister, Veronica, craved an heir for her powerful husband, Senator Harrison.
She believed my "Legacy Fertility" and my children's "vital essence" could help her.
A quack "expert" performed monstrous acts on my seven-year-old twins.
Then it was my turn; they brutally harvested my ovarian tissue.
I was left to bleed out on a filthy floor, my insides torn.
I died there, a vow of revenge frozen on my lips.
Later, I saw Veronica on the news, pregnant and glowing with what she stole.
But then, warmth. Sunlight.
My eyes snapped open to my own familiar bedroom.
Michael was on my chest, Gabriel curled beside me, both alive, young, and whole.
The calendar read October 14th—the very day it all began.
The memory slammed into me: David's averted eyes, the isolated building, Veronica's cold voice, Michael's terror, Gabriel's whimper.
This wasn't a dream; this was a second chance.
Veronica, triumphant in my first life, had risen on my family's ashes, her belly swelling with a lie while mine was emptied by her greed.
No. Not again.
This time, I wouldn't just survive.
I would take everything she had, everything she wanted.
Her husband. Her position. Her future.
My revenge would be absolute, and my children would live. The game had begun. A Father's Vengeance
Gavin The smoke burned my eyes, thick and acrid, as my three-year-old son, Caleb, coughed weakly beside me.
My wife, Jennifer, stood at the wine cellar door, her gaze fixed on her brother-in-law, Ryan.
"It's for Molly's sake," she said, her voice chillingly devoid of warmth.
"The guru said Caleb's energy caused her asthma attack. We have to cleanse it."
She slammed the heavy oak door shut, the bolt thudding into place, trapping us.
My son, who had a severe peanut allergy and sensitive lungs, was left to suffocate in the toxic smoke.
Days bled into a hazy nightmare until Jennifer' s brother, Wesley, appeared, revealing Jennifer never loved me; I was just a rebound.
He then callously threw more sage onto the embers, sealing our tomb deeper.
I clawed our way out, just barely, carrying Caleb' s limp, blue body to a hospital, clinging to a desperate thread of hope.
But Jennifer arrived, not for us, but demanding Caleb's O-negative blood for Molly' s minor fender bender injury, ignoring doctors' pleas.
"He's my son. Do it," she commanded, her eyes cold.
Then, with a casual glance at Caleb, a nurse, obviously bribed, fed him a peanut granola bar.
The flatline screamed, and Caleb arched, his tiny chest still.
Jennifer, with Ryan' s arm around her, turned her back on our dying son to comfort Molly' s fake tears.
My world shattered.
Ryan' s venomous whisper echoed: "You and your son, you were always in the way."
How could a mother abandon her child to such a horrifying death?
How could she choose a niece over her own son, then murder him without a second thought?
Something inside me didn't just break; it turned to dust, then reformed into steel.
Andrew Wright had to die, so the man who would take everything from them could be born. My Heart, My Vengeance
Gavin I spent three years locked away by my husband, Ethan, in a soundproof panic room.
My legs, shattered in the "accident" he orchestrated, were useless.
He stole my songs, my career, my life, and gave them to Chloe, a talentless fraud he built into a star.
Then, they wheeled me out-a prisoner displayed for the "happy family": Ethan, Chloe, and my son, Leo.
Leo, who looked at me like a monster, holding Chloe's hand and calling her "mom."
Ethan ordered me to confess to plagiarism, to blame my own "jealousy" for his intricate web of lies that destroyed me.
But the ultimate cruelty came later.
Chloe, supposedly dying from a heart condition, needed a transplant.
"You're a match," Ethan stated, his voice devoid of emotion.
"You will donate your heart to Chloe."
It wasn't a request; it was my execution.
My heart for hers, the last piece of me carved out and given to the woman who stole my life.
As the scalpel touched my skin, Chloe whispered, "This is for stealing my life, you bitch."
I closed my eyes, uttering one word to the mysterious "Pact" I made years ago.
Then, I left my body to die.
Yet, I woke up.
Not gone, but back.
And the Pact whispered a new bargain: return to stop Ethan, who, shattered by my death, was becoming a true monster.
The deal was clear: save him and save my sister.
I stepped back into hell, but this time, the chains were broken, and I was ready to fight. The Twin Who Stole Tomorrow
Gavin I woke up to the hum of the office lights, keyboards clattering.
This was my desk at Visionary Films.
I was alive, and it was October 14th – the day before everything went to hell.
Last time, my identical twin sister Jessica stole my script, getting me accused of plagiarism, leading to my parents disowning me and my career's ruin.
It ended with my death at the hands of a crazed fan.
Now, I was inexplicably back, but the horror was far from over.
I soon realized Jessica didn't just steal finished work; she could pluck ideas straight from my mind, instantly.
Even a simple drawing, conceived moments before, would appear on her social media, claimed as her own.
My entire creative future was being systematically looted by this parasitic twin.
How could she reach into my thoughts, my unformed dreams, and claim them?
The injustice burned, the confusion maddened me.
This wasn't just sibling rivalry; it was a soul-sucking tether.
Desperate, I fled LA, burning every piece of my work.
But a frantic phone call from Jessica revealed her creative well had run dry without me.
This led me to Mama Martha, who confirmed a dark Hoodoo binding: a cursed doll, made with my essence, stealing my life force.
Now, armed with a powerful gris-gris bag, I'm back.
I'm ready to expose her and shatter the source of her stolen talent on the biggest stage imaginable.