Novel & Cerita The Strain

I have been waiting for this call. I picked up the call...

I said when I remembered I hadn't thanked him for the dress. He just gave me a nod. Later, Ratna came and kept complaining about how she didn't have anyone to dance with. She is all alone blah blah and took him with her. The whole time, I felt his eyes on me. I know even though he was dancing with her his attention was on me. A boy exactly the same age as Devil came and asked me for a dance. He was quite handsome too. He had a dimple on his cheeks which made him more attractive. After he insisted like 1,000 times, I agreed to dance with him but deep down I was quite scared. He was a total stranger to me.

He was coming. Fast. The pain in my left shoulder throbbed relentlessly as I struggled to catch my breath. I fled the chaos erupting in the hotel where we had been staying. The smell of blood and flesh clung to me like a curse—one I feared might haunt me until my final breath.

Jena's taunts make Aiora throw her medicine bottle annoyed at Jena who is caught with alacrity. Jena laughed "Is he very strong?" The temptation is again. Aiora glared annoyed "I'll shoot you if you ask again." The threat made Jena laugh even more rolling on the bed. "Shit!" Aiora's people are upset why they have to have a friend like Jena who wants to be strangled every second. *** "Stay away from Aiora!" Said a middle-aged man who looked dashing looking at his best friend's son sharply.

He walked closer and closer toward our table. His expression looked irritated as he stopped in front of Ash and me. Other participants began moving toward our table, surrounding us. What was this supposed to be? “Listen,” Damian hissed. “Even the participants who died were more useful than you. So starting now, work harder and figure out what your power is.” I just stared at him, trying to hold back my tears. Did he think I wasn’t trying? I had only just learned that I was a Strain! Did he even understand how hard it was to figure out what my ability might be?

Everyone jumped. Carla immediately rushed into the room. She saw Amanda covering her mouth, her eyes red as she stared at the floor. "Mom, what happened? What..." She walked closer as she spoke. Then she froze. The long straw was lying on the floor and broken in half. "It broke?" Her breathing became shaky. A terrible feeling settled in her chest. She and Amanda looked at each other. At the same time, they remembered what the fortune teller had said years ago. "These straws decide life and death. The short straw represents the younger son. The long straw represents the older son. If one breaks, it means that soul has been destroyed."

Then the screen turns on, revealing a white background that had a lot of static. Red purses her lips. “Red…” She hears her name come from the computer. It was an unfamiliar voice. “What… is happening?” The computer releases a garbled sentence. Red could only pick up one word from the messy sounds. “... Stennex…” Stennex? Red didn’t know what Stennex was but she could look it up. She memorizes the word and swears to search for it later. Right now, she wanted to find out what was happening. Slowly, Red approaches the computer.

"Working on it. Dane has already gone back to the bus." Dane was happy when he thought he saw a light coming opposite his position, he ran immediately but accidentally tripped on a wire that activated a string of wires tying his leg in a motion, dragging him upward with his right leg hanging in the air, he bumped his head in the tree and passed out, his bag slipped out of his hand.

TERAH AND FANTINE arrived at D's place. Staring at them like hawk eyes, the man followed their movements. He was waiting for their arrival, cross-legged. He scanned Fantine like his prey but not in a sexual way. D had his standards, and one of them was no involvement in any witches. One of his fling, who was also a witch, made a scandal and threatened to destroy his collections of statues. The man was furious and vowed never to date any witches.

Everyone in the club was literally engaging in one nasty stuff or the other. “I never knew you could be so good with your hands,” Mel mumbled, trying to hold back her moans with the way he was fondling both of her nipples at the same time. “I can do better. Even with my mouth.” “Oh really?” “It depends.” The stranger answered. “On what?” “How brave you are.” “What do you mean?” Melissa frowned. She was tired of people indirectly referring to her as a pussy just because she was a very gentle person. “I can be bad too.” She defended herself.