Dark Inside (Dark Inside #1)

Are you a warrior or are you just some monstrosity? Follow your own road.

Doesn't matter what you believe in. Do you think things will stop or change because you've forgotten what the bogeyman looks like? Maybe that's what pissed it off, so to speak. It doesn't like being forgotten. So it decided to shake things up a little.

Free will isn’t always about choice; often weakness plays the game

He just wanted to stop thinking. It was easier that way. The numbness hadn't left him; if anything it was spreading. When he looked at the pictures, there was no emotion, even though he knew there should be. He should be sad.
But he wasn't.
He felt nothing.
The drinking didn't help.
Somewhere in the darkest recess of his brain, a button was pushed. Everything he cared about simply vanished. He'd malfunctioned.

I am a beautiful and intelligent woman. Anything I touch will turn to gold.

I knew they would find me. I'm glowing in the moonlight.My darkness was too bright to hide forever. They'll find all of us eventually. They play the odds and they're up a thousand to one.

I'm just sorry. Sorry that there won't be any more camping trips for kids or rock bands or even new books to read. No more movies or fresh bags of popcorn. It really sucks when you think about it. Of course, there is the possibility that we might be able to win this war, but not for a very long time. Probably longer than you and I will ever exist in this world."
"I try not to think about it."
"Sometimes it's all I ever think about.

People always looked beautiful when they slept, vulnerable and innocent.

The ocean would be nothing but salt water without her by his side.

There are different types of people in the world. There are people who accept what's in front of them unquestioningly. The live in the dark. In defeat. Ignoring what the future might bring or how they might help to make things happen. Then there are people like me. Optimists. They too live in the dark, in times like these, but dream of the light. I trust in the possibilities of betterness. I believe there is more to life than this. I have to. There's no other choices for me.

There are different types of people in this world. There are people who accept what's in front of them unquestioningly. They live in the dark. In defeat. Ignoring what the future might bring or how they might help to make things happen. Then there are people like me. Optimists. They too live in the dark, in times like these, but dream of the light. I trust in the possibilities of betterness. I believe there is more to life than this. I have to. There's no other choice for me

There are ruins all over the world, testaments of the atrocities, and burial chambers of the lost souls. But the facts are always misinterpreted. History is inaccurate.

There are so many empty people walking around on this little planet. Lonely people. Angry people. Bitter. Forgotten.

There must be a way to fight this. To block out the black thoughts and make the voices go away. But with each memory fading, their hold on me strengthens. Soon the person I was, still am, will be gone. I'll be hollow.

The stranger smiled at her. "Humanity has found a cure to a disease they never new existed.

They knew this—survival came at a price. Over the past few weeks they’d all survived a Bagger attack. Or two. Or three. They knew the consequences. Not everyone got out alive. They’d seen loved ones die. Even worse, some had watched the people they cared about turn on them. But as long as they stuck together in a group, they were still human. As long as they were human they were still alive.

We all want to make our mark in life, right? It doesn't have to be big. Sometimes we just want people to remember we were here.

We forget how truly fragile we are.
Skin. We do so much to it. Burn it. Tattoo it. Rub chemical into its surface. Sometimes we scrape it, pierce it, poke holes through its softness.
Skin holds us together. IT keeps the blood inside. Without it, we die.

We've been around for a long time, Mr. Dowell. Longer than you or any of your stupid little friends could ever conceive. Sleeping in the shadows and waiting for the right moment. A disease you might call us. A plague. Evil. From beneath the ground, it rises as it has done many times in the past.

What lies beneath has pushed its way to the surface once again. Time to get away while there is still air left in our lungs.

When there was nothing left inside, he laid his head down on the carpet and stared at the wooden railing. He was even emptier than before. How was it possible that hollowness could dig so deep?

You don't strike me as the princess type."
"What's that suppose to mean?"
Daniel Smiled. "It means that I'd still go out of my way to rescue you, but you'd probably smack me across the head and try to slay the dragon yourself.

You make them sound human."
"Aren't they? A lot of monsters are human."
She couldn't argue with that.