I Smell Like Beef Novels & Stories

I smell things a lot, but I don't tell mummy because it's weird. My friend Gaby told me so when the teacher lied to Ian's parents and I told her that I could smell that our teacher was lying. I can still smell well. My Dad smells like rust and burnt wood, which tells me he's worried and a little angry, and my mum smells like only rust, so she's worried.

“Concentrate. Tell me what you smell.” She inhales deeply and gags so hard that tears slip down her cheeks, wetting my palm. “Oh good God,” she groans. “What is that? It smells like...like...death.” I chuckle. “It's the meat in the freezer.” “Has it gone off?” “No, that’s what fresh meat smells like to us. Try again.” She sniffs the air again. I can tell by the way her tense muscles let’s go and how she melts into me that she identified my scent. “Hmm,” she purrs. “That’s nice.”

We walked straight to the parking lot, and he stopped pulling me when we stood in front of a black Mustang. Due to the significant height difference between us, he leaned down and brought his face level with mine. I immediately closed my eyes and smelled his minty breath, catching a whiff of his Calvin Klein cologne that reminded me of a baby's scent. Why is that? Whenever I smell his cologne or his breath, I immediately forget how Jiro smells. In fact, I don't even know what perfume Jiro uses, and I don't remember if his breath smells minty too.

Real. “Kalen,” I whisper. I close my eyes, a whimper escaping my lips. He speaks again, softer this time. “Name five things you smell.” I can barely think past the madness clawing at my mind, but his voice is an anchor. I latch onto it. “Pine resin,” I whisper. “Iron blood. Your... your stupid musk.” A huff of amusement. “Two more.” “Wood smoke.” A breath. A pause. A shuddering inhale. “Rotted meat.”

Fen’s eyes are red right now and I know I’m staring at the beast within him. “Your scent is how we can find you. We will always know who you are because of it.” I nod my head at his words. Not going to lie, I’m still confused. “What do I smell like?” my cheeks heat again. Some conversation this is asking someone what you smell like. I could die of embarrassment right now. He chuckles and moves closer, taking a deep breath from my neck. My eyes roll in the back of my head when he moves back, looking down at me.

*** After they were inside, they immediately met with a very sewer smell, and Brianna almost threw up if Jack didn’t suddenly put something on her nose. “What is this?” Brianna asked, narrowing her eyes as she smelled it before it turned to relax when the sewer smell was gone, and change to bread smell. “It’s just a perfume. Don’t worry, it’s not dangerous because it’s a perfume that bakeries tend to use to lure the customer. But the effect is not long so…I suggest you be wise when breathing,” he said, and Brianna just ‘oh..’

smell of pain smell of death smell of blood The putrid smell of my darkness permeates the intact space like a church, my church, I move my armchair closer to the window opening the trapdoor loving the dark way the place is filled with mystery I take slow steps down the creaking wooden stairs satisfying the madness with the noise. When stepping on the last step, I turn on the yellow light affecting the eyes of the guest tied up like an animal ready for slaughter in my simple butcher shop, I love the way he moans without being able to pronounce the words due to the lack of the tongue torn out in my outbreak of fury after seeing the brand in Giulia.

As River walked, he asked, “What did my brother make, Beckham? Why can’t I smell anything?” He had a keen sense of smell, so everyone often said he had the nose of a dog. After walking several steps, River added, “I smell balsamic vinegar and potatoes. There’s also the smell of pie. Dylan must’ve made salad. Peter could not smell it. He laughed and said, “We just got to the door, but you can already smell everything.” Beckham simply smiled. He did not reveal what Dylan had cooked. He dared not tell the truth.

There were so many scents in Manhattan I couldn’t pick hers out easily when it was diluted with so many others. I wanted to howl at the moon. Rip the man and his dogs behind me to shreds. I didn’t look at him because I knew if I did, I would kill him. He’d see the amber glow of my eyes and run. Which is the worst thing he could do when faced with a predator. The scent of her remained on the night air. I noted the car had come from the southern end of the park. I prayed she lived around here and came here regularly so I could find her again.

I didn’t know why, but I had been craving his beef steak for days. He handed me the food he had prepared, and I took it close to my nose, wanting to savor the aroma of Atlas’s cooking. But as soon as the smell hit me, my stomach churned, and I had to rush to the sink to throw up. I didn’t understand why I reacted that way, but the smell of his beef steak had turned my stomach. “Are you alright? Why did you throw up? Is something wrong?” Atlas asked, his voice full of concern. I took a deep breath and shook my head.