The Hunger Novel Novels & Stories

The brothel, the hunger, the feast. And she would never go hungry again

She sent a wall of golden fire slamming into the black shadow. The tentacle hissed, not like burning wood, but like something boiling and angry. It shrank away, bubbling like tar in the sun. But for every one June held off, three more crawled up out of the hole. The man in the white suit had disappeared. Now, there was only a tall, shifting shape made of pure darkness—a thing with no face, just a single, glowing purple light where an eye should be. It pulsed, sick and bright. “We are the Hunger,” it said, its voice a swarm of whispers. “The Foundation built the oven. We simply wait for the bread to be done.”

He turned, left, and the door slammed again, this time with finality. Silence returned. I stared at the tray of rotting food still lying on the ground. My stomach twisted again, and I clutched it, wincing. Hunger wasn’t just a feeling anymore. It was a part of me, crawling under my skin like ants. My mouth burned with thirst. My tongue felt swollen. I forced myself to crawl toward the tray. Not to eat. Just to look. The meat still looked black, parts of it almost slimy. The bread was worse—green fuzz curling along the crust. But the cup of liquid…

I had to find myself, even if I lose you in the process. The hunger was a gnawing, hollow ache, worsened by the stress and the freezing temperature. Seeing a flickering neon sign half a mile down the road, The Rusty Anchor, she headed toward the only light in the dark. She just needed one meal to get her through the night before the final leg of her journey began tomorrow.

What good is an education when I’m going to inherit the Darlington fortune anyway? That familiar pain clenches my stomach. I keel over, trying to breathe my way through the sting of hunger. “Oh, dear Goddess,” I mumble, pressing my head against the lockers and grateful that no one is here to see it. It’s just me and my disaster that fills these halls. Every time I try to eat something, I remember that day, the day it all fell apart. The hunger is good. When it started, the other way I was hurting myself stopped. And I'll take starvation over knife scars.

It was the only way to live long enough to see another day in the kingdom. Hunger was the only thing that never forgot me. It woke with me each morning, a dull, familiar ache deep in my stomach that refused to leave. Some days it was quiet, almost bearable. Other days, like today, it felt sharper, as if reminding me I had no right to rest.

Starved Passion::: Ivana knew she desperately needed a job to keep body and soul together, the clock beside her bed shows 2:45am in the morning and she was carefully looking for a vacancy application with a cup of tea in her hand, five different newspapers lay on her bed. Her present condition could be termed pathetic! Or Maybe desperate completely.

-Katherine- My entire body is on fire, but I find myself unable to move or call out. My mouth hurts, and my gums feel like I’ve chewed on too much Doritos and got shards stuck in them. With heavy eyelids, I drift off to sleep, but a few hours later something claws at my stomach and I wake up. Hunger - soul-splitting hunger. “What the fuck are you doing, little lamb?” Gabriel’s voice interrupts my chewing and I peer up at him while chewing at the leftover pizza in the fridge. I’ve had six slices, but nothing is stopping this fucking feeling.

This is night so he don't actually see through me, but everytime he look up, his eyes directly at me. That shock me, but then he just look away. I sigh in relief, shrugged the thought and enjoy the boring night without anyone see me. I said, “Everyone is happy despite vulnerable to almost everything. Not even death they can possibly avoid it,” I said, and the foolish stop from what he's doing, and even slowly close the book in his hand. He didn't look up, so I added after I sneered at him, “This foolish is not exception. Why not party with everyone else while he's living on?” His lip slightly curve, and he open the other book this time. He said to himself, slowly, “This book... is said to co

"You are hungry ,you should have said so or better still reach out for it,oh wait you can't move your hands or even talk ,how did I forget that ? ,I mocked and laughed I helped her sit up then I placed a napkin on her ,so that the food won't spill on her clothes . I opened the dishes situated on the tray , and it had a lot of mouth watering dishes . Half of the trays were filled with liquid meals, probably for the queen . I picked up the tea and gulped a large quantity.I was sure I was hungry ,then I added water to the little one left in the cup and gave it to the queen to drink. She refused to take in the liquid and I got annoyed. I laid her down roughly and opened her mouth with my hand an