Chomp Novels & Stories

​ Clarissa tills her sleek black hair, “Rejecting my kindness? How fucking rude.” ​ She yanks my hair again till my scalp throbs, and with her dagger-sharp nails, forces my jaw open. ​ Fucking shit. ​ “Chug! Chug! Chug!” The other people chant. Their camera lights blind me nearly as badly as the pain banging in my head. ​ Clarissa’s eyes darken into black, empty pools. “You heard the people.” ​ She shoves the harsh, sweet liquid down my throat. It burns as I’m forced to swallow, causing my eyes to water. I push her with all my might, but apparently, I’m not strong enough.

Elder tells me, "I'll have a hamburger first. -Okay. -I took the bag with the chicken in it and started to eat. Well, to be honest I was really hungry. I ate the chicken and potatoes in just a few minutes. -Are you feeling well? -Elder asked me later, he had already eaten his hamburger and now he was looking for the milkshake. -I am, I'm just really hungry. -I don't think all this will fill you up. -Why not? He hesitates. -Eat and then tell me if you're satisfied," he leans back on the sofa sipping his milkshake. There was a mystery movie on TV, I hadn't paid much attention to it but then I did. I ate the hamburger fast, the fries, drank my milkshake and left the pizzas at the end. I felt El

Glossary: Tholus = dome/arena - Immo = yes - Cupam = liquor/whiskey - Futuo = fuck - Chinga = small animal with a purple fur body/white mane like a lion, size of a newborn kitten *~~~* She was almost finished with her book when her stomach began to growl. She would have cooked, but her items had not arrived yet. Sighing, she headed to the computer by the door and called her brother. After speaking to him, she called Jay to see if she and Cobra wanted to go to the dining hall.

Sam squealed while Nat started choking on her chips. God save me!

not like this. To Be Continued...

Terry nodded. " Repeater takes hours, *chewing* shrieking takes minutes, but *chewing* I don't exactly know what's in the area. *Chewing* Since it's just shrieking out the number of the area, but that's *chewing* OK since this isn't a happy happy learning science play date. * gulp* So care to tell me why you were *chewing* looking for me?" V1 asked, but he seemed more interested in eating than in the situation.

He was being wound tighter and tighter until it was almost too painful to endure. Rhylent's mouth tube began to move slowly. In and out, and then the flesh rod went deeper. The alien began to glide the huge tongue so that Chasm could suck on more of the surface. Chasm licked and shaped the smooth pole with his lips. Fluid began to leak steadily out of the little hole at the tip of Rhylent's mouth shaft. When Chasm caught the fresh drops, he sucked harder. The apple taste was delicious and nothing like Fenton's yucky sour spit.

Then it gagged. The sound was indescribable. A cosmic dry-heave that shook the Portuguese coastline and sent waves crashing against the shore. The Hungry's impossible mouth snapped shut, its writhing body convulsing as it tried to process fourteen quintillion entries of food that contained absolutely zero satisfaction. "It is choking!" Katherine reported, her sensors tracking the entity's energy levels. "Its consumption rate has dropped by eighty-nine percent! The junk data is clogging its metabolic pathways!" "More!" Jack shouted. "Ben, feed it more!"

Like he wasn't just waiting for his turn to speak but genuinely processing what I was saying. This was new. Most people listened to me the way you listen to data—absorbing information, categorizing it, moving on. Eli listened the way you listen to someone you're trying to understand. "You're nervous," he said after our food arrived. "I'm not," I said, which was a complete lie. I was approximately 47% nervous and 53% terrified and all of it was showing on my face. "Yes, you are," Eli said gently. "You keep doing that thing where you straighten your fork when you're thinking about what to say next."

The bite on my neck feels like a brand. In the grocery store, I push the cart down the aisles while Emery chatters about Sir Fluffington and princess beds and whether we can get the cereal with the marshmallows. I am only half-listening. The scent of the store is overwhelming—the sharpness of cleaning products, the sweetness of baked goods, the musk of other shoppers. And somewhere in the mix, a trace of Alpha pheromones, faint but unmistakable. My body reacts before my brain can stop it. A flush. A shiver. A pull low in my belly that makes me grip the cart handle until my knuckles turn white. "Riri?" Emery tugs at my sleeve. "Are you listening?"