Nitre In The Cask Of Amontillado นิยาย & เรื่องราว

“That sigh didn’t sound too good.” “No, I was just thinking about how it’s been ages since I just took a breath and not worried about anything. It feels good,” he says, kissing the side of my head. I’ve always had to constantly watch my back and live as if I would die tomorrow, so I understand what he means by that. But compared to how long he’s been alive, what I’ve been through must seem like a breeze to him. He reaches for the bottle next to the tub and holds it up. “It's called Varleaunieux Invecchiato; it’s a blood-infused non-alcoholic wine and safe for you to consume,” he says before pouring us each a glass.

"Bring the glasses." My heart skips a beat. Usually, we drink water or table wine with dinner. But "bring the glasses" means something else. It means the cellar. Elena clears the table quickly. She places four large, balloon-shaped crystal glasses in front of us. They are delicate, thin-stemmed. Aureliano reaches under his chair. He pulls out a bottle. It is dusty. The label is yellowed, the script faded. Amarone della Valpolicella. 1998.

I tried the date we met at the bar. Access Granted. The screen lit up with files. Dozens of them. Project Decay. Neurotoxin Variant X. Antidote Synthesis. My heart hammered. I found the file for the Antidote. I clicked on it. It was a complex chemical formula. And a set of instructions. Ingredients: Extract of Atropa belladonna (Nightshade). Synthetic compound V-7 (Proprietary Vane Corp). Blood sample of the host. I froze. Blood sample of the host.

I turn my face away from them, towards his. “Why on earth not? It’s what you are. You just haven’t had a chance to bloom yet. Don’t worry, it’s coming.” As more people remove their clothing, he pulls me aside. “Come away, little virgin. You’re not ready for this room yet.” He leads me down a hall, and as we enter the next room, Raven holds out a glass of neon green Chartreuse. “Only two monks in a lifetime know the secret recipe, did you know that, precious?” He hands me the tiny glass of strong liqueur. I sip it, and it tastes like vampires and decadence, like Halloween in New Orleans. “They say it will give you vivid hallucinations and artistic inspiration, like absinthe, but that’s probab

The floor didn’t dare echo. The study was white to the point of cruelty: marble floor to ceiling, corners that didn’t dare collect dust. Busts watched from the walls—Marx, Nietzsche, a young Schopenhauer—philosophers repurposed as sentries. On backlit shelves, rare liquor glowed like captured embers: Macallan Adami 1926, Dewar’s Double Double 37, Bache-Gabrielsen Sérénité. Bottles that tempted thieves more than thirst.

“What kind of wine is this?” James wore a mystified look as he peered closer at the jade glass. The old man smiled at him and said, “It’s Mount Thunder Snow Lotus Wine. It’s also known as Sacred Snow Lotus Wine.” James could not help but pick up the glass in awe. He swirled around the few drops of wine and sniffed it. A sweet, cloying scent spread in his nose, and he could feel his body’s True Energy respond excitedly to it.

His tone is calm, with no heat in it. I shake my head slowly, “Nothing,” A light smile returns on my face, “Do you like my choice?” His gaze remained on me, as if trying to read my sadness but he didn't push it. He picked up the wine bottle and started to uncork it. “It’s one of my newest collections. Made with black cherry, dark plum and dark sage leap out of grass. The alcohol is integrated and warm, so I heard. I haven’t had the time to taste it.”

He sniffed them carefully, his expression growing serious as he exclaimed, "Cantharides!" Natasha's smile froze. "Cantharides? Isn't that a potent aphrodisiac?" Dylan's face turned pale. "Mr. Lloyd, are you saying… this wine had cantharides in it?"

I said shyly, wasn't expecting Nolan to do that. “Anything for you signora,” he said smiling at me. “Ha! I remember Cassian stashed away some wine, Cassian always stash the good wines and I know you'll like it but where did he keep it?” He said, talking to himself skimming through the cellar. “Ha! I found it,” he said picking out a bottle from the corner of the cellar. “Alto adige Pinot grigio for the one and only signora Lilith,” he said with the Italian accent flashing the bottle of wine at me.

Amanda laughed, “Was your ex a sommelier?” Nala stood up and in a mock French accent she picked up the bottle of water and laid it on her right hand, “I would recommend this 1759 vintage bottle of La Armada blend of pinot meunier and Nebbiolo grown from the highlands of the Himalayan Alps. The dark cotton soil gives it the characteristic bouquet of the sweet dark chocolate and has notes of coffee and strawberry. It pairs well with the charcuterie board.” We all howled out in laughter at her impression as well as the very incorrect details.