Glitchtrap And Vanny 소설 & 이야기

SARAH'S POV I sat there in the cold dark alley for quite a while and not even a rat passed by, I was starting to get scared when I heard faint laughter, more like a chuckle from afar. The sound became louder and clearer. It was no longer just the sound of laughter, I could now hear footsteps approaching. The closer they came the clearer their voices, they sound like nice people, I should probably ask them for help. What will I say though, I can't possibly tell them that I'm a vampire princess who came here through a porthole and woke up, then blacked out, then woke up again in a place where I was stabbed with needles and driven away by the smell of blood and somehow ended up here with no one

Chapter Seventy-Two: Beneath the Surface Vanessa tapped her long, polished nails on the wooden table of the quaint café she'd chosen for her meeting with Clara. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filtered through the air, mingling with the soft hum of murmurs around her. Clara was already running five minutes behind, but Vanessa wasn't bothered. It gave her time to strategize. This wasn’t just a casual catch-up—it was a carefully crafted move to uncover the truth about Noah and Stephanie.

The young woman leaned up and their lips met once more. It was slow this time, gentle and shallow as Jonathan slipped out of Allena body. The Vampire Prince eventually pulled away and turned over onto his back. They laid their side by side, Allena shifting slightly as his legs slowly straightened after being splayed wide for so long.

Tantario was most likely busy searching for his beloved Aira, so he also did not pose a threat. Vragenn grinned smugly as he ripped open the throat of yet another innocent person. The unfortunate ones, enslaved by the will of the vampire king, could only await their unenviable fate in horror. The Lord’s hands were up to the elbows in blood, and the entire perimeter of the floor of the room was covered with scarlet liquid.

Minus Viper’s lips formed a slight smile, but his eyes burned with anger. “I have to apologize. Clearly, I didn’t quite make the impression on you gentlemen that I had intended.” “Now, don’t be too sure about that,” I said. “If your intention was to show us that you’re a psychopath that mutilates his own people due to his own personal fuckups, then let me assure you, message received. Wouldn’t you say, Clutch?”

I bared my fangs, stepping forward as my heavy claws clicked against the floor, ready to tear his throat out. "Look at you..." Vane whispered, entirely unfazed by my aggression. He didn't step back. He didn't even reach for a weapon. He kept walking toward me, his hands trembling as he gestured wildly. "This is beautiful! Do you see it, Doc?! Look at the genetic stability! No degradation, no monstrous deformities! This is absolute perfection!" I snapped my jaws violently at his face, a warning. But, he merely laughed, a breathless, hysterical sound.

I passed Polly in the hallway. She was pushing a handcart piled with ten or so boxes, arms trembling. Seeing me, she stopped and lowered her head to let me pass. "Distribution going okay?" I asked. "…So-so," her voice hoarse. I nodded and walked on. After a few steps, I glanced back. She was still there, hands on the cart, shoulders slumped. The snowlight outside cast pale shadows on her face—white, almost bloodless. The next day, my assistant mentioned casually while dropping off documents, "Mr. Bassett… the employees secretly created a group chat. They call it the 'Cherry Victims Alliance.'"

His screams bounced off the frozen mountains around us, and I felt my lips curl into something that wasn't quite human anymore. "Did you see that?" Vane's voice cut through the chaos, his laughter manic and blood-soaked as he wiped crimson off his chin with the back of his hand. His wolf was riding him hard, golden eyes flickering with primal satisfaction. "She literally just ate his gravity trick for breakfast. Like it was nothing. Like he was nothing."

She must not care about getting out of here in one piece! "You wretched woman, how dare you...," Marcus snarled, grabbing Serena's wrist. "You're nothing but trash, already used up by my uncle. I wouldn't even bother with leftovers like you!" Serena remained unfazed. "If I'm so beneath you, then why don't you let go?" Wayne, fueled by the alcohol, had his judgment clouded by that slap. "I'm not letting go, so what are you gonna do about it?” "Marcus, do you want to lose that hand of yours?" Damien's lazy voice drifted over from the direction of the stairs. His tone was calm but carried a hint of warning.

She took out a gun and aimed it at his head. She was about to pull the trigger when a flash of purple whizzed past her and she doubled over to the ground. "Violet!" the scarlet speedster spoke as the other speedster was then standing next to him and helping him up. Violet and Crimson—the two speedsters that Carol had identified back at Carter•Labs and it turned out that the speedster killer had caught up to them. "I'm guessing the plutonium's safe since we are all still standing?" said Crimson to Violet.