Beast Breathing Novels & Stories

Mу еуеѕ are drаwn tо it as I wаtсh hіѕ сhеѕt mоvе uр аnd dоwn rhуthmісаllу with his breath. I find my own brеаthіng starts tо deepen, fаllіng into synchronization wіth hіѕ. This іѕ crazy. Onе of uѕ has to say ѕоmеthіng ѕооn, but іt’ѕ nоt going tо bе me.

Suddenly brume cloaked the scene coming out from the hands of the one standing to Frankenstein's left. “I- I can’t see.” Node fretted looking sideways. The brume was so quick and thick he hardly saw the girls’ and boys’ faces clinching onto him. “Children stay where you are, don’t move! Your mummies and daddies are coming for you!” a voice spoke within the brume. Though no one could see through, it was never a problem to the tribe’s men and women for they had noses that could sniff out anything from many miles away and ears that could pick up even the slightness sounds in the desert. They were doubtlessly from a race called Beast beings.

I close my eyes as I breathe her in, filling my lungs with her heavenly scent. I’m about to pull away when I feel her small hands on my chest, and I freeze with my lips still against her forehead. She hesitantly runs her hands up my chest to connect behind my neck, and my lungs start to burn as I realize that I had been holding my breath.

I slam the door behind me, leaving Terris inside. Ambling downstairs, I find the beast lounging on the settee with his eyes closed, too calm for my liking, like a lion ready to strike. He always keeps a gun with him, and right now, he is stroking his face from the nose up to his forehead with it repeatedly. His disposed gigantic trunk is heaving up and down from his massive breathing. He doesn't look approachable. I don't think I should talk to him right now. I should probably wait for him to calm down a little, if that is even deemed to happen.

His breathing was ragged, muscles coiled like springs. And then, as if the universe wanted to drive the nail in deeper— a boom in the distance. Screams. Cries. The second face—the one we thought was subdued—burst into life, letting out an earth-splitting shriek. A black, oily sludge slithered out across the battlefield like living rot, spreading, sinking, devouring. “See you again,” the beast called, now dissolving into mist, his form melting into shadow. His voice echoed in all directions—

My body was totally weak as my hand clutched my chest. I was struggling to breathe. “What’s wrong with you?” The beast rushed towards me, holding my arms. “Hey, Pet. Breathe. Come on, breathe,” he shook me hard. With each passing second, his voice sounded faint in my head. “Help…me,” I struggled to say the words. The environment spun in my head as my vision became blurry. My heavy eyelids fell, causing me to shut my eyes. I could tell my body also collapsed into his arms.

Beau, my second in command, pulled his human side forward and I did the same. It was a girl, barely a woman, her face ashen blue, near death, and the light was fading. I began pumping her sternum, willing frantically that the water would come up to keep the light alive, give it breath to rekindle the dying spark. All three young ones whined and pawed at the earth. I wondered if they could feel the goodness, the purity The Beast’s gift conveyed clearly to me. The loss of this beam of hope? Would surely tear him apart. Beau tilted her head back as I paused and he blew a breath of air into her water-logged lungs. I felt a power rise out of her, the silhouette of her soul rising from her body,

We should be screaming. But we aren't. Because Mom won't move. And we're all staring at her, frozen with one loud thought pounding inside our skulls: What the hell is she doing? The beast's breath comes in hot, steaming plumes, the scent of something primal and ancient filling the corridor. Each exhalation is a promise of violence, of teeth tearing through flesh. The sound of its breathing seems to echo off the walls, amplifying the terror coursing through my veins.

Its hot breath washed over me, making my skin crawl. I was trapped, helpless, and at the mercy of this monstrous creature. No one was coming to save me from its wrath. The Beast's face was inches from mine, its eyes blazing with a fierce hunger that seemed to pierce through my very soul. I felt my vision blurring, my consciousness slipping away like sand between my fingers. The Beast's hot breath washed over me, making my skin crawl with terror. I tried to scream, but my voice was trapped in my throat, silenced by fear.

Desperate. Neoma screamed my name. I saw the shape of it on her lips. Viggo! My lungs began to burn. The need for oxygen was a physical hammer pounding against my chest. My vision blurred. The red fog was everywhere now. Thick. Cloying. It obscured the glass. Don't breathe, I told the Runt inside me. If you breathe, you leave. If you leave, the Beast takes the wheel. But the body always wins. My diaphragm spasmed—a violent, painful contraction. The edges of my vision went black. I was going to lose consciousness. If I passed out, the autonomic system would inhale.