A Rabbit Down In A Bite Novels & Stories

My stomach picked the wrong time to grumble. “Have you eaten anything recently?” Smith asked. “No,” I said with a shake of my head. “Sit tight. Give me a minute,” he said, leaving the room. For the entire minute that he was gone, my heartbeat went haywire. The hisses seemed to get louder and closer, as if they were all waiting for the right moment to pounce. True to his words, Smith was back in a minute with a bloody wild rabbit in his hand. The head had been ripped off, and I shook my head. I didn’t think you could eat that.

Bright yellow fur, twitching whiskers, and eyes like tiny gemstones that looked far too judgmental for a woodland creature. “Mr. Yellow,” I sighed, plopping down on an overturned crate. “Still bitter, still furry.” “And you,” the rabbit sniffed, grooming his paw, “still reckless. Escaping the castle, risking your life, when your so-called mates could protect you. Tsk. I should have let the forest swallow you years ago.” “You tried, remember? And I lived. So technically, I win.” The rabbit thumped his foot, scowling. “You call this winning? You’re powerless, hunted, and apparently incapable of staying out of political messes.”

I could see clearer than ever, noticing every detail of its twitching muscles, giving me a hint of its next course of action. I moved before the rabbit changed its direction. In one big leap, I thrust my left front paw on its small body, pinning it down, and thrust my canines inside its small neck. “Sheryl, nOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.” I heard Raymond screaming at the top of his lungs at the same time I killed that rabbit by biting its neck. I growled in pleasure, pulling my canines out of its neck and howled in delight, declaring my win in this hunt. The forest was now bustling with so many voices, laced with fear, confirming my win.

she hissed, and before I could think, we were already moving. We charged through the underbrush, the sound of snapping twigs filling the air. My heart hammered in my chest, part fear, part adrenaline. Then, from behind a bush it appeared. A rabbit. Limene froze for a heartbeat, her fury melting instantly into hunger. “Food,” she breathed, and without hesitation, she lunged. I didn’t even have the strength to protest. I just stood there, my chest heaving, as Limene’s jaws caught the rabbit. It squealed once, then silence. She tore into it with the hunger of a beast that had been pushed too long, too far.

My eyes follow his gaze to a patch of bushes that tremble faintly, as though something small is hiding there. We inch closer. My fingers tremble as I clutch my knife. Asher crouches down and parts the branches with the blade’s tip. A blur of white fur darts out, and I nearly scream. It’s a rabbit. The tiny creature hops twice before disappearing into the dark, leaving silence in its wake. I exhale shakily, pressing a hand to my chest. “A rabbit?” Asher lets out a quiet breath, lowering his dagger. “Seems so.”

It freezes as Mikki's leans down to poke it with her nose but she recoils a second later yelping loudly. If I would have laughed if I could. I guess Mikki won't be putting her nose anywhere near a rabbit's head again, they bite. I watch the rabbit bolt into the snow. Mikki's whines on the ground, her paw on her nose as if that would somehow stop the pain. I crawl over to her and with my own paw push her off her face. She wasn't bleeding but you could see she'd been bitten, a little bit of fur was missing and her skin was red.

The woman's restrained smile and the rabbit's scarlet, bloodshot eyes alternated before Brent's eyes. When he came back to his senses he was in the basement, with a dying rabbit under him. The poor rabbit's carotid artery had been severed when he had made an unsteady cut, and a plume of blood had spilled everywhere. Instead of smelling blood, Brent's nose was filled with the smell of rainwater and the citrusy scent of the face wash the woman had just used.

[RABBIT] Rabbit noticed the bruise while brushing his teeth that morning. A deep purple mark curved faintly along the side of his neck, ugly against pale skin. It sat just beneath his jawline, half-hidden unless he tilted his head the wrong way. “…shit.” He quickly dropped the toothbrush into the sink and grabbed at the collar of his hoodie, pulling the fabric higher. Still visible. Barely. But visible. His stomach twisted instantly. “Perfect.”

Slowly, I lower my head towards the rabbit, my mouth just inches away from its succulent flesh. The aroma engulfs me, tempting me to abandon all caution and dive in headfirst. But I resist. I wait, my eyes fixed on the alpha, seeking his approval. Time seems to stand still as I hold my breath, my heart pounding in my chest. The alpha's gaze softens, a subtle nod of his head indicating that I may proceed. With a surge of relief and gratitude, I sink my teeth into the rabbit, savoring the taste of its tender meat.

Debt out. “I won’t become you,” Tristan whispered to the ghost of Bastian, wherever it watched from. “I won’t be your hand.” The grove held its breath. Somewhere a night moth thudded once against the cracked lantern at the path’s mouth—an omen with paper wings. Wind combed the canopy and decided against speaking. The earth smelled like rain that had forgotten to fall. Deep beneath his knees, something laughed. A small sound, like pebbles shifting, and twice as cruel.