Glamrock Freddy Human Novels & Stories

I wouldn't cower before him like a whipped dog. He raked me with a scorching gaze, a slow smile spreading across his face - the kind of smile a wolf gives a cornered rabbit. "Well, well," he purred, his voice a melodic rumble. "What have we here? A little lost lamb who's wandered very far from home indeed." I glared at his condescending gaze, my fear sparked into anger. "I am no lamb," I shot back, my voice hard as flint. "I am Freya Hadid of the Crimson Pack, and I demand you return me to my people at once!"

"Untouched. Knows how to cook and clean. Bidding starts at three gold pieces." Shame burned through me, but I kept my face blank. I wouldn't cry. Not here. A few hands went up. Bored faces, calculating eyes. They were looking at me like I was a cow at market. Then someone climbed onto the platform. He was huge, this werewolf. Scars covered his face and arms, twisting his features into something ugly. His breath smelled like rotten meat when he leaned close. "Turn," he growled. I turned, my face hot.

How many wars has he fought to keep his family safe from all harm and those who want revenge on Alaric? He couldn't help but wonder how many more sacrifices he'd have to make at the expense of his own happiness. He clenched his steering wheel tightly. All he did was feel. As a vampire, everything was heightened, his emotions, his fear, his pain, his anger. He wished for a moment that he could switch off his humanity entirely, the part of him that felt, but he couldn't. That would cost him a lot.

He shows no sign of disgust, instead he tops up my third glass. “And, what else? What else happened after they saw you?” I glance at the contents of the glass, the red liquid swirling in there, that day playing at the back of my head, the screams of horror, cries of disappointment. I chug the glass. “Slow down.” he chides, peeling the glass from me. “And Freddy made it his life’s mission to save the family from embarrassment. He was going to un-gay me, no matter what. That’s what he called it too.” I chuckle, but it’s bitter.

He was able to tell that the older teen was mocking him. “If you smack me again I won’t fix stuff for you again” Frederick quickly spoke up before Mane could hit him. Mane looked frustrated. “You’re good” he said bitterly. If Frederick hadn’t said anything Mane would have hit him. Mane reckoned Frederick wasn’t fine either. He had killed his first human after all. But he could care less about him now that the boy had taken away Mane’s smacking privileges.

Sweat streamed from his scalp, pooling in the folds of his neck, staining what Easy knew to be his only good shirt. Easy turned away from Freddie, focusing all his attention on his empty scotch. “Why you set yo’ sights so high, my man?” Fat Freddie continued. He never could take a hint. “There’s plenty o’ girls willing for not a lot o’ coin. You can get seconds. Or fifths.” Easy Street shook his head. “Not my scene, man. You dig?” “I’ve got some top-dog giggle-smokes, man. C’mon outside for a minute,” replied Freddie.