Life Drain Novels & Stories

Nor can we get help from those whose whereabouts are unknown. According to Frey, the number of vampires that exist today is very small. She had never seen another vampire besides her family. However, she had heard that several groups of vampires hunted humans for blood supply. It sounds a little cruel, but human blood is the main source of food for them. I also can't give them the slightest sympathy because I'm also a human. I continued to ask Frey about the people who were after her. The people who chase vampires are a vampire extermination organization and the like. They are called Flower Skulls.

Down toward the dark, jagged rocks at the base of the cavern wall, where thick, rusted pipes were vomiting sludge into the underground sea. "The drainage," Valerius realized. "The biological waste disposal. The city recycles water, but the... solid matter... has to go somewhere." "Gross," Hailey wrinkled her nose. "Please tell me we aren't doing a Shawshank Redemption." "We are doing a Shawshank," Jack confirmed. "Valerius, lead the way." It took them an hour to climb down the treacherous rock face to the level of the pipes. The smell hit them before they even saw the opening. It was a mixture of sulfur, rot, and chemicals.

"But the drainage valve handles the overcurrent." "The drainage valve handles the node's overcurrent," he said. "It doesn't handle the biological load. The valve is between the node and the drainage shaft. You're between the node and the node's input." He looked at her. "The valve protects the node from you. Not you from the node." "What distributes my biological load," she said.

A torrent of dark, unfiltered, murky river water—the raw, blighted sludge from the outer canal—began to pour into the cistern, instantly contaminating the pristine, shimmering vats of Kael's filtered essence. "No!" Corin shrieked, dropping to his knees as the black, foul-smelling sludge rushed into his pristine glass containers, turning the liquid gold into worthless mud. "No! My fortune! My beautiful water!" "Now the playing field is level," Julian spat, wiping a smear of blood from his cheek. He didn't wait to see the merchant's despair. He turned and bolted toward the secondary exit—a narrow, foul-smelling drainage pipe that led toward the lower sewers. Behind him, the shouts of the guard

After we finished eating, we moved over to the pool area to relax, settling into lounge chairs with cold umbrella cocktails in hand. Maybe the whole experience at the resort had shifted something in Grace, because after a while of quiet conversation and slow sips, she began to open up. She told me how her family had been struggling financially. Her husband was currently unemployed, even though he had been accepted by one of the companies he applied to. The problem was that they still hadn't given him a clear starting date, and in the meantime, the bills kept piling up. On top of that, one of her children was supposed to start grade school soon, and she really wanted her to attend a private s

Lunch was a pot of soup. Diane set the pot down on the table with a dull thud of metal against wood. The soup was murky, gray-tinged, a thin film of motor oil floating on top. The water came from a drainage ditch in the basement — Gerald Grant said it ran off from the factory floors above, that it wouldn't kill anyone. Three years in, we'd drunk plenty of things that wouldn't kill us. "Go easy. Make it last."