The Hunger Novel Novels & Stories

“I’ve always been a gentleman, it might not have seemed so from the start since I was anxious, but now that you’re completely in my grasp, and have nowhere to run to…I think I can relax. Take up the menu and look for something you’d want to eat.” She hesitantly did so, skipping it open to peer at the first page. As she read, she realized that most if not all these foods were unfamiliar to her, and they were almost the same price as her rent. She couldn’t afford it. Clamping the book shut, she kept her eyes down. “I…I’m not hungry…can I leave?”

The scar splits open, bleeding silver and shadow as the recollection takes form—Kieran's head thrown back in joy, sunlight through oak leaves, the warmth of his hand on my shoulder before it all went wrong . The Hunger quakes . For a terrifying second, I think it'll devour the memory whole. But then— A shudder. A sigh. It cradles the moment instead, running ethereal fingers over the edges like a scholar admiring fragile parchment. The memory doesn't fade. Doesn't dissolve. The Hunger simply... holds it. Reverent. "Again," it breathes. The Child exhales. "Not take. Share ." Hope flutters closer, gaining strength as the Hunger's rampage stills. The library's surviving books sigh as their

For Elise who's unemployed in her last life, she feels ashamed, these children age seven to fifteen starting to work to learn how to feed themselves. This is also the reason why she hated this novel. All the struggle , hope and tenacity of the children have built will just be in vain once the tragedy happened. It's disgusting to think that they were just side characters for the protagonist to be known. Elise who thought that sacrifices are important for every character development is exhausting to one's pov.

It was easier that way. I waited for night to fall. Harper returned from work, and busied himself in the kitchen. I listened intently to the gentle banging of pots and pans, and sniffed the air. Rosemary and garlic and something earthier filled the house. My stomach grumbled, but I ignored it. Harper no longer cooked for me, and I struggled to so much as make myself a sandwich. I’d managed a Pot Noodle for lunch – it took little more effort than a cup of tea – but boiling the kettle was the extent of my culinary attempts. I simply did not have the energy to sustain myself, and had spent the rest of the day lying in bed, silent tears streaming down my cheeks.

The First Hunger wasn't just a creature; it was a law, a cosmic certainty, a force of existence. AURORA. COME HOME. Its voice shook reality. Ava's body froze as the ancient memories surged violently. She saw endless darkness. The beginning. The loneliness. The dream. And beside that dream—the Hunger. It had not been an enemy, but a companion. The realization struck her like lightning. Before stars existed, there had been only two beings: Aurora and the Hunger. Dream and Void. Creation and Consumption. They had been alone together for eternity. The Architect's face went white. "No."

“It chose stasis because it feared existence. I embrace existence through consumption. Everything I eat becomes part of me. Memories, experiences, lives. I am a collection of everything I’ve ever devoured.” “Then you should understand,” I press. “All those lives you consumed, all those experiences. Don’t they make you want something more than just eating?” “They make me hungry for MORE,” it roars, and Tempest’s hold wavers. Time lurches forward and the entity moves a few inches before she can freeze it again. “Mama, hurry!” “What if I could give you something you’ve never tasted?” I say desperately. “Something new, something unique?” “There is nothing new,” the Hunger says. “I have eaten civ

Each passing day only intensified the ravaging hunger clawing at his insides. As he roamed the bustling streets, his sharp senses honed in on the tantalizing aromas drifting from nearby eateries. The divine scents wafting through the air only served to twist the knife of hunger deeper into his heart. But every time he approached these places, he would be met with skeptical glances and demands for money, an elusive concept that remained utterly foreign to him.

The other end picked up and I said I need a donor now. My office was only a few blocks away and it took all my willpower to make it there and not suck the life out of some random person on the street. When I made it to my office my donor was waiting for me and I didn’t hesitate and took her in my arms and sunk my teeth right into her flesh, trying to stop the hunger that was taking over inside of me. I drank until I felt the body in my arms losing conscience and knew I had to stop or I was going to kill her but the hunger inside of me wasn’t even remotely satisfied. I pulled away and laid the body onto the floor and made another call for another and a cleanup crew.

It's New Year's, I'm coming home for dinner, don't forget to make fish! I woke up with a start. Once the fog of sleep cleared, all that was left was resolved. He just wanted fish, right? Then that's what everyone would get. I invited the whole family over and laid out a feast of fish dishes. However, the mood was eerie; no one even reached for their forks. Theodore Douglas, my uncle, cleared his throat, his eyes scanning the room before landing on me. "You know, they say starving is the worst way to go.

He said, angry at the hunger that befriended Jennet at the moment. If hunger is a living human, Hue would have to punch it in the face and toss it into the void where it could never find its way home. Even if hunger managed to get back, Hue would go to war with pan and spoon in his hands, defeating it endlessly. Hunger, a third wheel indeed because nothing good could be enjoyed when it appears. Truly a mood killer! However, Jennet was thankful for the appearance of the unexpected saviour. Hunger had spared her purity from getting devoured by the man before her. She was grateful for it, very much!