Nightly Krumbs の小説・ストーリー

June 1st, Sunday night Kavinsky finally completed his project after having dinner with his father and mother. His parents had retired to bed early while he stayed a little while more in the living room, playing video games. "I want to sharpen my skills in this new video game 'cause I know I desperately need to before Harry learns about it", he had told his mom when she asked why he wasn't going to bed early. "Alright but go to bed early, you know you have to go to school tomorrow", his mother had said. He had rolled his eyes at the moment as he muttered.

“You have your own room now, your own bed, pretty curtains. That’s what little girls want, right?” I stared at Crumbs on the floor. He was all I wanted at the moment. He picked him up and turned him over in his hands. “Ugly thing,” he said. “He’s mine,” I whispered. He dropped Crumbs on the floor again, but not gently. Then he stood and left, without saying goodnight. That night I couldn’t sleep. I lay very still in bed, holding Crumbs tight. The pink curtains made shadows on the wall that looked like claws. I kept my eyes open as long as I could.

I waited for the excruciating pain but it never came, instead, I felt a soft bump on my body and my eyes snapped open to see Night nudging me with his head. “Oh,”I gasped in surprise, but my heart instantly melted. “Aren't you a good boy?” I raised my hand and hesitated, but something told me he wouldn't hurt me so I gently rubbed his head. “Are my eyes fooling me?” We turned to see Kraven, his siblings minus Kohen and their retainers standing behind us. “Your highness.”We greeted him simultaneously and bowed. “This is amazing.”Kraven said while watching Night stand close to me. “Come here, boy. Have you decided to be a good boy again?”He whistled and motioned for Night to come closer but he

The nights were long, and all day the wet wind gnawed; business at the bakery, however, grew only stranger. Early mornings, bleary-eyed delivery boys would find offerings on the stoop—peculiar breads wound with cress and copper coins, single slipper orchid buds tucked into the scoring, loaves that, when sliced, spelled letters of the alphabet, trailing acrid, hopeful promises. As if the city’s hunger had grown a tongue, and now spoke in crumbs and crusts.

“Okay. Everyone. Eat. We’re entering crunch season. If you’re not carbed up, corporate will eat you alive.” “Crunch,” Paul echoed from the couch, one arm slung over the backrest like he owned the furniture and the concept of rest. “Love that word for a job that’s actively trying to kill us. Is this a free-range, artisanal crunch, or the usual existential dread variety?” He crossed the room, reached for a pastry, then stopped mid-motion, suspicion narrowing his eyes. “Is this one of Celeste’s rituals? Should I be worried about being inducted into a pastry cult?”

OSTARA’S POV The week passed like a soft blur. The Halloween flavor competition had taken over Harvest Bloom. Someone had drawn a scoreboard on the break room wall. Every morning, new sticky notes appeared with flavor names that ranged from brilliant to borderline absurd. “Caramel Blood Moon.” “Pumpkin Praline Panic.” “Ghoulberry Crunch.” By Thursday, Sabrina’s absence still felt strange, but the team’s excitement had a way of filling the gaps she’d left.

Just the scent of baked bread from the open-air kitchen three blocks down, and the sound of mismatched music spilling from three different corners of the city violin, drum, soft synth. It shouldn’t have worked. But it did. Nova passed around chipped mugs filled with something vaguely citrus, courtesy of a district growhouse. “Officially,” she said, “this gathering is unrecorded.” Aria grinned. “Unofficially?” “It’s the first time no one’s asked for a plan.” Cassian leaned back against the fountain, gaze lifted toward the cracked mural above them once Eden’s first emblem of dominance. Now weather-worn, faded into nothing but abstract light and erosion.

Jeff Buckley's So Real was playing over the sound system and the crowd was lively and giving off a good vibe. Bob came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. "Okay, we're done baking for the day. We're going to have some learned scones, and oatmeal bread." They gave away their leftovers at the end of the day because they didn't use preservatives and Troy refused to sale subpar products. When there was a lot, then he sent them to his church, but if not they just gave them to the homeless at the end of the day. "Uncle Bob, I'm going to be the helper." She announced.

JASMINE Before I knew it, it was halfway through September. I had found myself preoccupied with school and work, and temple choir had started up again. We were now rehearsing every night of the week as we would be performing during the alpha ceremony. At work, Lucy and Valerie were busy prepping for all of the desserts and the huge cake they’d have to prepare for the occasion. The whole pack was alive with excitement for something that hadn’t occurred for over forty years—the transition from one alpha to the next.

It was the last one anyway. The apartment was actually very nice. Okay so when Damion said he owned the apartment he meant the complex. It was just a small four complex building but no one else was here except for us. Everything had already been furnished and he had already had anything we could possibly need delivered. He also had already set up a grocery delivery once a week all we had to do was put the order in.