Novelas y relatos de Flesh

His musk frothed, powerful and abundant, making him intoxicating even as he grew more hideous. The people below sunk into the very street, as though their skin was melting and flooding the ground. Their eyes stuck up like egg yolks. The ever-expanding flesh devoured cabs and clothes and entire streets. The flesh moved to the port. As it slipped into the water, it hardened, becoming an island. Countless lips screamed wordlessly, and it was as though they were all right beside my ear. A euphoric laugh cut through the screams, rumbling through the air like thunder.

The horror I feel paralyzes me; I’ve never seen a transformation so close, and the grotesque intensity pins me in place, my eyes fixed on their bodies as they begin to writhe. The transformation is brutal, a dance of pain and power that consumes every inch of them. Their clothes tear apart, disintegrating into rags, while their bodies expand, muscles bulging, bones cracking and reshaping in a macabre display of flesh and fur. I hear the sound of bones breaking and adjusting, a crack that fills my ears like the beat of a war drum. The smell of sweat and blood permeates the air, thick and inescapable, bringing with it a bestial and fierce aroma.

The noose was tightening around my neck, and I could feel the rope getting smoother and tighter with every passing breath. Slowly, the water stopped running. The sudden lack of sound made my heart give a hard, painful kick against my ribs. Andreas walked out a moment later. He had removed his torn, dirty shirt, and his chest was bare, showing the deep lines of his muscles and a few fresh red scratches from the scuffle. He was holding a small white towel, drying his face with slow, steady movements. His green eyes found mine immediately, cold and completely steady. There was no heat in them, no furious fire, just a vast, gray distance that made him look like a stranger.

“You are very wise. I have come to bring to you an issue of dire need. Three of our soldiers had been sent outside our walls, and their corpses were returned—at least what remained of them. We had sent ten more soldiers to investigate what happened to the three; only one returned, one of his hands chopped out. He says he had seen a creature that should only exist in a person's nightmares. The only survivor had been traumatized and is still under care—he won’t make it, but we were able to discover the truth. The creatures that attacked them are called Flesh Eaters.” “Like vampires?” I asked, and for a moment the woman went completely silent. “The only similari

he rasped, each word dripping with the primal force clawing its way to the surface. The first snap of bone echoed like a gunshot. His arm twisted unnaturally as it stretched, muscles knotting and tearing only to rebuild themselves thicker, stronger. Another crack followed as his shoulders broadened, his body lengthening with each agonizing jolt. The chains groaned, then screamed under the mounting pressure. His breaths became raw and animalistic, each one dragging him further into a place where thought ceased and instinct reigned.

Solid and alive. My hands explore, curious. I map the contours beneath my fingers. Flesh. Tense and taut. A chest, perhaps. A torso. It flexes beneath my touch. My mind spins. The scent—the same one that revived me—engulfs me. It is delicious. Addictive.

I leaned forward and ran my tongue along the side of her throat, feeling her pulse jack up higher, tasting the sweetness of her flesh, the slight saltiness, because she was so worked up beads of sweat lined her skin. I’m going to make you feel so fucking good.” I licked at her throat again. “Hold on to me.” She lifted her arms and wrapped them around my neck. I went back to dragging my tongue up the slender column of her throat. I could have done this all day and night, just got high from the flavor of her flesh and the pleasure she gave me by making sweet, aroused little noises. I thrust my cock against her belly, dry humping h

It was simpler than all of those, an unguarded, direct openness that arrived so quickly she almost missed it before it settled into something more composed. "How do you know about follow-through mechanics?" he said. "I know about movement mechanics," she said. "Cheer and football use different vocabularies for the same principles." He looked at her for another moment. Then he turned back to the wall and threw again, same adjustment, same result, two inches higher and right. "Two weeks," he said, mostly to himself. "Follow-through," she said.

"No really. What do you see, if you didn't know me, what's your first impression?" Juicy munched her cake and squinted. "I see a light skinned guy, with light eyes. Sixteen. Thin build but in shape. Hmmm, dress nice-" "You see a sixteen year old boy." He repeated. "You are a sixteen year old boy, Felix." "You don't see a fag? A queer, a punk, a sissy-" "What the hell?!" She hollered in alarm. "What brought that on?"

Tom said. Brooke puffed out her cheeks and blew out air. "Medical says to cut the arm off. You have necrotizing fasciitis. It's going to spread quickly and it will kill you. I'd usually just cut away the infected skin but I don't have the tools, clean room, or a way to do a skin graft. What does science say?" Ellie pressed her lips together and tapped her thumbnail to her lips while she thought. "Well, there's the Link. I've got one-"