Skinhunger Novels & Stories

If not for her lies, at least everyone could have stocked up for another half a month. "Damn old hag, look what you've done!" "It's all your fault, you cursed wretch!" The neighbors cursed Linda furiously. Soon after, the voice message of the rich heir, Vincent, popped up in the chat. "I'll buy supplies at a high price. Food, water, whatever! I'll pay 2,000 dollars for a pack of pasta and 1,000 dollars for a bottle of mineral water!" By then, a pack of pasta was selling for 1,000 dollars. Vincent was truly desperate. He knew that if he didn't spend his money now, it would soon be worthless.

Then the shouting got worse. “Twenty utensils—ten coppers!” “Flour—fifteen coppers a bag!” “Bread—one copper!” Silence fell. A man leaned close to another and whispered, “Did someone forget to add a zero? These prices look like a bad joke.” His wife’s eyes sparkled like she had just seen gold. “But it’s cheap,” she said. “Should we try? We don’t have much silver left. We spent it all on the medicine this month. One dose costs more than our monthly food.”

Broke and ready to fall into the hands of a sugar daddy who would take care of all my student loans and expand my failing nail business. Even more, I’ve been doing something that I’m a little bit ashamed of. Sometimes when I’m really hungry, I go onto one of the dating websites and check my profile. I’m not active on these sites, but I keep a photo and a bio up just in case Mr. Right is out there. I scan through my Inbox as my stomach growls and sometimes, I pick a man to have dinner with. Isn’t that so awful? Honestly though, hunger can make you do anything and sometimes, I just need a square meal.

The sky was completely dark now, the northern winter night settling in with a sharp, biting chill. Skylar reached a quiet intersection, and with a mere flicker of intent, the $300,000 USD cash instantly disappeared into her Supernatural Space. She ran a hand over her empty, aching abdomen. Her next priority was clear: a feast, a reward for the small, battered body that had endured the trauma of rebirth and the hours-long walk.

Chapter Twenty-three Repeated History Sebastian I had gone out to get the chopsticks which I forgot to get along with the package I bought. I also got some drinks with it. My stomach grumbled from hunger; I hadn’t had anything to eat for hours. It was the very first time I would go hours without eating.

’ She replied to his message. Kimberly stared through the window of Mike’s car as they drove through the lower east side of Atlanta city. She observed there was lesser economic activities going on here. The area was characteristed by a few fast food franchises, seedy motels, strip clubs, and residential buildings in need of renovation. She also noticed she had not seen any white peron for the past few minutes they had been driving. “Are you sure the address you gave me is correct?” Mike asked. “Yeah, why?”

There was a bedside table next to her with a glass of water and a bucket next to the bed. "Hello," her voice came out in a cracked whisper. "Hello," she said even louder. "Is anyone there!? Can anyone hear me!? Please. I need help!" she said as she started to cry. This was real, and she had no memory of how this happened. How long had she been here now. Did she wake up prior to this and do the same thing? She looked down at her ankle, which burned the most. It was raw, and it looked like burnt flesh all around. She felt the metal around her ankle, and it burned to the touch. She was being captive with silver. Is that what was making her so weak?

The crowd roared like a beast hungry for blood. The underground boxing ring was dimly lit, the stench of sweat, beer, and raw adrenaline thick in the air. The arena was hidden beneath an old warehouse in the Bronx, where only the elite, the reckless, and the rich had access. This wasn't the polished, sanctioned world of professional boxing this was primal. No rules, no mercy, just pure combat. And at the center of it all, undefeated, untouchable, was Kane Shawn.

My kids are crying. You have a whole kitchen back there. You could at least cook for the neighborhood.Trent: I knew she was crazy! She's been stockpiling this whole time while we were all living our lives. She's a freak!Mrs. Higgins: Scarlett, please. We're desperate. My husband is diabetic and we're out of his medication. Can you help us?The messages kept coming. Faster and faster.

[The Hunger of 7.0] The scream wasn't coming from my throat, but it was vibrating through my teeth. It was a sound like grinding glass and dying stars, a digital hunger that felt like a swarm of insects crawling beneath my skin. The Heir wasn't just a voice anymore; it was a ghost trying to claw its way out of my chest to take its first real breath.