Romans & histoires Left4dead

It tries to send the memory through her knees, her hands, her throat. Maya lets it arrive. Then she steps left. The dead follow sound and motion. They do not think. They do not plan. They do not fake low and attack high. They are patient appetite in a ruined suit. “Behind?” she whispers. Clear within twenty feet, LUS says. “Lovely.” The dead man reaches. Maya lets him commit, shifts inside the arc, hooks her foot behind his ankle, and drives the crowbar hard into the side of his knee.

It’d be fun I think to myself, and we march off down the street. We walk a couple blocks to a bar I’ve never been to. The sign says “Crossroads”. How fucking fitting I think to myself as we walk inside together. Inside the bar definitely gives off elevated dive bar feels. The lighting is a bit dark and it’s clean. There’s a dark wood bar, with seats around it. Matching dark wood tables fill the remaining space, with the exception of a small portion that looks to be a dance floor. No one’s dancing right now though. Behind the bar, stacked on shelves, is liquor of every kind.

Holy shit. I could feel a light sheen of perspiration coating my skin, the mild breeze barely managing to cool down my heated body, my nether regions equally damp as I watched him. I licked my lips, my throat dry with a different kind of thirst as my gaze followed those fluid and powerful movements, greedily drinking in every inch of bared skin. That loose black tank top fell so lazily on his torso, revealing his muscle-corded arms and those bulging pecs that peeked out from the sides every time he tilted his body or raised his arms, giving me such a delicious view.

I needed to make myself as cruel as I could. “You’re mistaken, Mr. Moreti.” My voice was cold. “There was never a bed, it was just a night. One that is already forgotten, or are you so hung up on one flimsy night? One would think you were the virgin and not me. It’s just sex and nothing more, and whatever we had before that, a relationship or what not, it’s done as well. I’m sure I made that clear enough last night.” Lies. They were all brutal, ugly but necessary lies.

Devon said. I remember what Luna said about the hatred that she can sense in me before the accident happened. It is because my dad died in a hard way. His cancer killed him. I can’t accept that he will die just like that. There’s a lot of war that he has been through. He went to Afghanistan and he survived. And because of cancer, he died. He lost the battle. I know my dad is a good person and he doesn't deserve to have cancer. I never talked to God after my dad died. I questioned him but I didn't see any answer. That is why I stopped talking to God and that is the hatred that Luna can sense from me.

The tires rolled over the damp stone road, carrying his hoarse voice away from me. "Vivian!" I did not look back. A heart that has already died once cannot be frightened awake by blood that arrives too late.

He dropped to his knees on the scalding ruins, digging through the hot slate and rebar with his bare hands. His palms were burned raw. His fingernails flipped back and tore off from the force of his digging. His bloody fingers were worn down to the bone. But he felt no pain. He was like a machine that knew no fatigue, repeating one sentence over and over: "She's still inside. She's afraid of the dark. I have to get her out." The Council Elders arrived. They looked at the crazed Alpha and tried to reason with him. Eric had only two words for them: "Fuck off."

Fabian roared as he grabbed the bottle of liquor and poured it toward my daughter’s mouth. The glass doors of the hotel suddenly shattered. Several military jeeps rammed inside, followed by more than a dozen police cars, sealing off the entire lobby.

"Only liars. The truth lies in the third folder." He gestured. The soldier opened the final folder—one video, dozens of photos. The timestamp read yesterday. Sal carried the teddy bear into the living room. Set it down. And slowly, the bear began to shed its skin. The costume unzipped from the back. A woman emerged, stretching, turning toward the camera with a satisfied smile. When she turned fully, every head in the Chamber swiveled to look at Gigi.

My fiance, Adrian Hale, and I had planned to go snorkeling on Valentine's Day. The day we landed in the south of France, I discovered that his first love, Vivian Clarke, had come with us. They insisted on heading into unpatrolled waters. "But those waters are dangerous, shrouded in strange rumors..." Adrian frowned at me. "Sophie, do you have to ruin the mood right now?" Vivian smiled and hooked her arm through his. "With you here, nothing is going to happen to us." Once we were in the water, Vivian recklessly swam toward the deeper channel. A swell shoved half her body into a narrow opening. I swam over to pull her free, but she thrashed and drove her heel hard into my knee. Her elbow knock