روايات وقصص ضمن It Hungers For Blood

“Ignis vitae is not yours to keep, it is ours to bleed.” I snarled, blood dripping from my chin. No. It wasn’t theirs. It wasn’t Everley’s. It wasn’t the Interregnum’s. It wasn’t even ours. It was hers. But gods help me, I wanted it. The next merc came at me with a blade instead of a net, and I let the hunger loose. Fangs buried deep, shadows threading through his veins as I drank deeper than I should have, the heat rushing through me, molten and powerful. His lifeblood filled me until he fell limp, boneless, and still I hungered.

His focus was on the hungry faces staring back at us, faces that made my stomach twist with disgust. For all their centuries of existence, they resembled starving animals more than dignified immortals. Bloodlings, they said, were ruled by primal thirst. But watching these so-called elders, I wondered who the real monsters were. Still, I couldn’t fault them entirely. Hunger had its many shapes, and I knew mine well. I had no desire for humans, no taste for their fragility. My thirst was different. Darker. More dangerous. I craved the blood of wolves. The thought of piercing a dagger through their chest had haunted me since I was old enough to name desire.

Even if I spoke to the wolves, he listened like it was meant for him. He clung to the mountain like some ghost. He drank rainwater when he was thirsty and ate rotten fruit and animal carcasses when he was hungry. He looked worse than I ever did when I lived among the wolves. To avoid wild beasts, he slept in treetops. Of course, he often fell and broke bones. Sometimes, people stumbled across him in the woods and were scared out of their minds. Some kind souls tried calling for help, but he clung to the ground like a madman, slicing his palms open on sharp rocks just to stay put.

Two mighty soldiers charged at me with their Spears, Before they got to me, They all got frozen and I tossed a dagger which broke the ice into pieces, I faced Frost and winked at him before continuing the Massacre. I can sense the urge returning back to my body, The immense pains as I slowly became hungry to rip out hearts and slaughter innocent souls, Dark veins spread out over my body and my Muscles expanded causing more pains. " I AM HUNGRY...HUNGRY TO DESTROY, HUNGRY TO FEAST AND ANNIHILATE, BRING THEM TO ME, BRING THEM ALL TO ME...I NEED THEM DEAD, I NEED NO ONE ALIVE, SOMEONE PLEADE QUENCH MY HUNGER...."

Lucien’s voice curled around her like silk and smoke, soft but suffocating. Adrian said nothing. He didn’t beg. Didn’t demand. He just stood there, eyes burning, waiting for her to decide. Her pulse thundered. Every part of her screamed to run, to flee from them both. But the truth was far more terrifying. She didn’t want to run. She wanted answers. She wanted to understand this hunger inside her, this aching need that had been clawing at her since the moment she met them both. She took a single step forward—toward Lucien.

Mommy and Daddy were dead. Cobra might be dead. Tyron might be dead. I was tired. So tired of running. Maybe if I died, I would see them again. That thought made me feel sad but happy. I opened my mouth and swallowed the liquid on purpose. It burned down my throat like hot pepper. My eyes watered. My chest felt tight. The world started moving strangely. The trees leaned sideways. The red glow stretched into a long line. The men’s voices sounded far away, like they were underwater.

There would be no punishment for the people who laughed and had signed papers and went to sleep as my family burned. When I stayed there, I would be walking farther into the jaws of the monster. I sat up and embraced my knees; my fingers tore into my flesh. My heart was still weak. My hands were still too easy to shake. I was not as strong as him. I was not made to find my place in this world of guns and blood. But I was tired of running. I got weary of being small and frightened and powerless. “I should have died without making a noise,” I said to myself. "They were wrong."

"Look at how horribly Rachel’s family died! Their new house is still under renovation—they were about to move in. My nephew was just a month old!" His voice rose. "If it weren't for you, Rachel’s family would've been so happy!" A tide of relatives broke into sobs. "I'll give you the money back. We don't need you to pay for the funeral. You know why I didn't call the police?" He stepped toward me, advancing like a hunter. "Because I want you dead." He swung a knife toward my head. I grabbed Freddie's arm and begged, "It really wasn't me. If you've got the wrong person, then you'll get your hands dirty for nothing!"

Then the pain hit. It slammed into his chest like a spear, spreading hot and fast through his veins. He gasped, staggering toward the bed. The blood moon hung high outside the window, red and swollen behind the storm clouds. Of course. On a blood moon, everything intensified, old curses, ancient hungers, and the bond that was already driving him insane. His heat cycle, something he usually controlled with blood and distance, came roaring to the surface worse than ever. His skin burned. His cock hardened painfully fast, throbbing against his trousers. Need clawed at him, mixing with the sharp ache in his chest.