Battery Acid Drink Novels & Stories

When I was seven years old, a handsome man Mom brought home gave me a box of mangoes. That day, Dad watched me happily eating the mangoes as he signed his name on the divorce agreement. Then, he jumped to his death. From that day on, mangoes became a lifelong nightmare for me. So, on our wedding day, I told my wife, Irene Johnson, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." She held me without saying a word. From that moment on, mangoes became forbidden for her as well. … On the fifth Christmas Eve after we got married, Irene's childhood sweetheart, Steven Carter, placed a mango on her desk. That same day, she announced that she was cutting ties with him and fired him from the company. That day, I felt that she was the woman destined for me. ... Six months later, I return from overseas after closing a billion-dollar deal. At the celebration dinner, Irene hands me a drink. After I drink half of it, Steven, the man who was kicked out of the company, stands behind me and grins. "Is the mango juice good?" he asks. I look at Irene in disbelief, but she is holding back a laugh. "Don't be mad. Steve insisted I play a joke on you. I didn't give you a mango, just a bottle of its juice. "But I think Steve is right. There's something wrong with you for not eating mangoes. Look at how much you enjoyed it just now!" she says. I keep a cold expression, raise my hand, and splash the remaining mango juice onto her face. Then, I turn and walk away. Some things are never a joke. Mangoes aren't, and neither is my decision to divorce.

There's an unspoken rule in my household—everyone has to engage in a drinking competition during the holidays. Whoever gets wasted first will have to pay off one year's worth of house and car mortgages for the other two siblings. In the first year, I collapsed after my first glass of alcohol. I had to pay the house mortgage for my oldest sister, Dahlia Zeller. In the second year, as soon as I picked up my glass, I fainted right away. Since then, I had to pay off Jasmine Zeller, my second sister's car loan. For the next 20 years, I've always been the loser. In the end, my wife, Jean McCarthy, is forced to jump off a building because of the huge debt I've racked up. The debtors keep dumping paint onto my residence, forcing me to deter away from it. Ransacked by guilt, I end up damaging my stomach from overdrinking when I attempt to train my alcohol tolerance. As a result, half of my liver has gotten removed. When I'm on the verge of death, I hear my parents snickering outside my ward. "Don't you think we've laced too many sleeping pills in his drink? He almost didn't wake up back then!" "It's fine. He's an idiot who merely thinks he has a low alcohol tolerance. Our family still relies on him for financial survival, you see. We can keep drugging him so that he'll keep getting wasted." When I open my eyes again, I've already gotten reborn in the timeframe when I'm sitting at the dining table in the 20th year.

On the day my dad, the Don of the Capone family, comes to the orphanage to take me home, I show up in a tactical helmet and a bulletproof vest. "I'm not going home with you. You're definitely doing this to trick me into getting married to a perverted old geezer in a marriage alliance. I bet my adopted sister has made preparations to start fake-crying anytime by loading up on her eyedrops." My dad is amused, to say the least. "Why would any of that happen? Silvia is nothing but welcoming you to our home! Also, our family isn't a lowly organization that deals with human trafficking." But I refuse to believe my dad at all. On the way home, I keep typing something on my phone. My mom, the Donna, leans over curiously. "Are you writing a diary entry?" "Nope. I'm writing tips on 'How to Survive the Mafia.'" 1) My food will definitely be poisoned. 2) If I get close to a staircase, I'll definitely get pushed down the stairs. 3) I'll get framed for something that I've never done before. My parents swear to me that none of the things I've written will ever happen. They tell me that my adopted sister, Silvia Capone, has a great personality, and things are amicable in the family. However, everything changes when Silvia brings me a glass of juice before lunchtime and insists on watching me drink it. Instead, I dump the juice into a nearby vase of flowers. Just as my parents are about to scold me for wasting the juice, smoke begins drifting from the flowers inside the vase. Then, they start wilting rapidly. I calmly leave a bright red checkmark behind the "poison" tip. As my parents stare at the dead flowers, they can feel color draining from their faces. "You should send the juice to a chem lab for analysis."

I thought my life was sorted. I have a sweet fiancé Marcus, a cozy apartment and my wedding Pinterest board on lock. As The classic good girl, I saved myself for marriage, never gave anyone trouble and always made safe choices. That was until I met Marcus’ dad Victor. He is tall, suave and deliciously charming. Everything about him turns me on without trying. Just one handshake and my body lit up like fireworks. I panicked and told myself it was hormones. I avoided him like a plague and even gave Marcus my virginity few months to our wedding but it didn’t work. One girls’ night and one weird-tasting drink, I find myself in his bed begging like I’d lost my mind while he ruins me for his son. Now I dream him every night while Marcus snores beside me like nothing’s changed. He has no idea I’m picturing his father when he touches me and that it’s his dad’s name I’m biting back when I come. I tell myself in the mirror every morning:
“Stop! You’re not this person.” But the second we’re in the same room? My willpower cracks. This isn’t cute at all. It’s messy, embarrassing and terrifying.
 The safest choice feels lonelier every day and the dangerous one feels like I’m finally breathing. What am I to do when the person I’m supposed to marry isn’t the one setting my body on fire and the one who is happens to be the last man I’m allowed to want? How long can I keep this affair hidden from Marcus when the wedding is so close and Victor is determined to have not just my body?

"Now, Gary. I understand that you're twenty-four. But I need you to train in restraining your sexual desire, you're not a horny teenager. So, we will not be leaving this restaurant for another half an hour. Then you're going to go to my place where I will exhaust you until you climax over and over again." She told me as she drinks her coffee slowly and started rubbing my upper thigh again. "Drink your coffee baby, you will need your strength." I smiled at her as she smiled back knowingly. "Say thank you, mistress." She whispered in my ear, making me groan, as I instantly get hard again. ***** When Gary worked for Adriana it was for the experience, and for the amount of money that they offer for an easy administration job. He was a boxer by night, it was his hobby, his real passion in life. Then the time came when he needed more money because of his brother, who was doing bets on the side for his boxing match. Until he finally came to Adriana and took on her offer to be a sugar baby. ***** Megan is a very well-known businesswoman. She was raised the hard way, where she didn't have the luxury of money. Now that she's a billionaire in the making, she doesn't have the time to date. But she likes to play, and she was bored being hassled by men for her money until she found Adriana. Until one fateful day when Gary showed up instead of her usual companion. From him, she learned the true meaning of living. Will, she finally settled down with him? Will he ever be comfortable around her wealth? Let's dive in and find out, shall we? ******** *Warning! R-Rated for 18+ due to strong, explicit language and sexual content*

I no longer deliver meals to my husband, Zachary Smith—the man who became the factory manager after receiving a scholarship that brought him to the city—since my rebirth. I even make sure to detour using the gate at the factory's north side whenever he uses the southern gate after he finishes his meetings. In my past life, I was fully aware he took me as his wife—a humble country woman—just for the chance to move to the city. Yet, I insisted on becoming his wife, anyway. After all, I was convinced that a person's true affections could be earned and nurtured. Yet, Zachary maintained a constant, formal distance throughout our marriage. He would simply offer me a book the moment I attempted to bridge the gap, saying, "You should study more so that you don't continually attract people's contempt." I got emboldened by the drink as I threw my arms around him, yet he merely accepted the embrace rigidly, whispering, "It's just what married couples do." It wasn't until decades later, as I lay on my deathbed, that I discovered the heartbreaking words in his autobiography. In it, he stated that our entire marriage was like being trapped in a mire and that he never wanted to be with me again if he were to ever be reborn. I felt a searing pain tearing through my heart as I closed my eyes in devastating anguish. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back at the point in time when the gossip about Zachary and Juliana Ziegler, the factory's technician who studied abroad, first began to spread. In this life, I choose not to fight or cause drama. Instead, I am the one who brings up the divorce.

Gosh! Those eyes! They were screaming cute! His masculine beauty was out of this world and he is the kind of man I’d love. The only problem I saw in him was the big tattoo on his arm that extended to his wrists. Being a typical church girl, I couldn’t end up with such a man unless I wanted to be disowned by my father. “I’d have a glass of martini, extra dirty and tacos.” He said in a dreamy gusty voice. “Coming right up” I said taking the menu list and flashed a timid smile at him. I felt my cheeks burning and if there was a mirror around here, I’d have checked how embarrassing I must be looking. My face must have definitely turned pink. I watched him as he ate gracefully without looking elsewhere, his eyes were fixed on his phone. His short brown hair was to die for, I instantly wished I could run my fingers through them. Too bad, I might not be the kind of woman he wants; it wouldn't hurt to have sinful fantasies. He suddenly looked towards me, maybe he must have noticed I had my eyes on him all along. Immediately he locked eyes with mine, I looked elsewhere pretending to looking for something that wasn’t missing. I could tell he gave a faint smile but kept sipping his drink slowly, as he was gazing at his phone. He gave a signal to come and get his bill and I walked gracefully to him. God! I wish he could just take me to bed. Oops! I’m a church girl and shouldn’t be thinking of things like that. “You should take a picture of me, it will last longer.” He said in a baritone voice.

My girlfriend's so-called guy best friend found out I had epilepsy. He deliberately spiked my drink with stimulants. The moment I drank it, my nervous system was overstimulated. My heart rate surged. My chest tightened. Then the familiar warning signs hit–blurred vision, fragmented awareness, the onset of a seizure. The next second, I lost control of my body and collapsed onto the floor. My muscles convulsed violently. My jaw locked tight. My breathing turned uneven. I struggled to pull out the emergency medication I always carried with me, trying to stop the seizure from worsening. However, just as I was about to take it, I realized the hot water in my bottle had been replaced with highly concentrated coffee. The extra caffeine intensified the neurological stimulation. My convulsions worsened. My thoughts became more chaotic. My fingers stiffened to the point where I could barely move. Aaron Stone looked down at me on the floor and laughed. "Not bad. You're pretty convincing. "I've seen plenty of seizure patients before. Never seen anyone act this well." Gasping for air, I forced myself onto my knees in front of Mia, my jaw tightening from the spasms. "Mia... call an ambulance... I'm having a seizure..." Mia frowned at my obvious condition, but there was only impatience on her face. "Enough already. "If you keep acting like this, it's honestly too much. Since when can people having seizures still talk? "Aaron's a doctor. With him here, what could possibly happen to you?" I stopped trying to explain. Because I was already entering the next stage of neurological collapse. Even speaking had become difficult. Using the last of my strength, I pulled out my phone and sent an emergency distress message.

Sample: ' “Motherfucking dog is what he is , damn it” she chugged her drink down . She pointed her unsteady hand at her two best friends who were watching the show unfold . “ All men are the same . HEARTLESS CHEATING BASTARDS . Do you hear me? Heartless cheating bastards ” Casey screamed at the men sitting on a nearby table. “Yes, that's what you all are . Cheaters . Bloodsucking vampires, you use women like chewing gum and spit them out after you use them”. She placed her glass with a loud bang , almost falling off the table. She joined her hands while looking up at the ceiling, blinking . “If someone up there is listening, I wish all these men would suffer from crabs so bad , they would scratch it so hard that their dicks will fall off ”. She looked down and pointed a finger at them. “This is my curse on your species ”. She turned back to her friends leaving behind a group of mortified men with wide eyes who were left there holding their junks in fear . ' Casey has always been a hopeless romantic, searching for the one person who will finally return her love. Owen, on the surface, has it all—wealth, fame, and an endless stream of admirers. Yet despite his many conquests, he shuns commitment, refusing to be tied to anyone. When a scandal threatens his reputation, Owen concocts a plan: a fake engagement to Casey, In return, he promises to help her win a man. It soon grows complicated.Owen finds himself unexpectedly drawn to Casey but just when love seems within reach, Owen's past returns—his ex, stirring old emotions and doubts. What happened next read in my book ‘Mr Wrong'

Stanley Meyer and I were the main leads of a sappy school romance novel. We were childhood sweethearts with a bond stronger than iron and steel. Everyone thought that I'd be Mrs. Meyer in the future despite the fact that I was the daughter of the Meyers' housekeeper. That was, until I personally witnessed Stanley making out with Tina West, Gerard West's illegitimate daughter who has just returned from abroad. He even put the emerald pendant, which was supposed to be a keepsake from my grandma, on her neck carefully. I was overwhelmed trying to figure out this unexpected variable outside the plot. But Stanley decided to imprison me in a mental asylum instead. "It's better for you to wake up from that daydream of yours. I'm sick of hearing you prattle about the male and female leads for so many years. Only when Tina is by my side do I feel a sense of freedom." The torture I was forced to undergo in the mental asylum was too much for me to handle. My only salvation was the spare time I got to scribble down the original plotline of this novel. When Stanley found out, however, he torched my drafts instantly. He even went as far as to poison the glass I drink from. Before I died, I heard his icy voice. "Tina will continue to live her life in fear as long as someone in this world remembers the original plot. That's why you must die for her sake." When I woke up again, I'd returned to the day I witnessed Stanley and Tina making out with each other. Everyone around me wore various expressions, though they collectively decided to stay quiet. I was the one who shattered the silence by raising my glass with a smile. "I wish you a lifetime of happiness."