Thirst Novels & Stories

It was the reason why when Epic asked me if she could spend the night at her friend's house, I could not argue. It was midnight and I was in my bed. I couldn't sleep because of that weird feeling and was pretty much just tossing around. All of a sudden, my breath became heavier as if someone had put a heavy rock on my chest. It felt like my heart was about to burst. I was overwhelmed with a strange hunger. My throat seemed to shrink in itself and a burning sensation started to bloom at the walls of my throat. It felt more like thirst than hunger. A forbidden thirst. I didn't realize when I went into the kitchen to calm the hunge

It actually felt painful that he wondered how a slender man like August could exert so much strength. “Why? Are you afraid to answer? You know what I hate the most Drake? Your passiveness. You never do or say anything. I don’t care if you’re cursing me or hitting me, I just….I just want you to talk to me….touch me..hold me..be by my side. Have you ever cared about my feelings? If you really want something just admit it damn it!” August felt hard to breathe, he is letting it all out. The clogged feeling in his throat became more painful, but his cold eyes bore into Drake's soul, and the blonde didn’t like the feeling at all. He knows that tears are not only mixed with pain, it’s anguish…fury…

Phoebe frantically coughed in the bathroom: “Cough…cough…cough…” As if there was a fire burning in her throat, even though she knew she was very thirsty, she also knew that she was not thirsty, she wanted a drink. another thing, one thing that could make her thirsty instantly was human blood. That right, she needed human blood as much as possible to satisfy this thirst. At this moment, the instincts of years of deep sleep awakened, Phoebe's nails were abnormally long and sharp, her black hair color was also turning white, and her contact lenses fell into the sink re

She tastes it on her tongue, it's like a copper penny or maybe just the taste in your mouth when your Momma runs a red light and almost kills you and all of the people driving on the street with her. Yes, that is the taste of rage. First she has the taste, next she is standing up and pounding on the girl and swinging at her friends and there is long hair caught in her fist¡­no not hair, just weave. Girls are crying and the teacher is holding her arms down against her body and screaming over and over, 'Juicy stop!' And then suddenly she can breathe and think again.

The warmth soothes my throat like hot cocoa on a bitter winter night. "Okay, that's enough, Hazel." She tries to pull away, but I grip tighter. I am so damn thirsty. She's finally able to snatch her arm away. A primal growl bubbles up from my chest as I feel a rage course through me. My skin is itching and my vision is blurring. I can still feel the fire in my veins.

As the night enveloped the room in its inky darkness, I lay on my bed, groaning in discomfort. My throat felt as dry as a desert, and the thirst was overwhelming. Every passing second felt like an eternity, and I tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position. It seemed as though I hadn't had a single drop of water in ages, and the parched feeling in my throat was unrelenting. My mind was fixated on finding some relief, and I knew that I wouldn't be able to find any peace until my thirst was quenched.

Blythe shuts her eyes tightly when she's starting to feel her head spinning fast again, the abnormal craving for something she hasn't even tasted before. The whole time that Zandro was carrying her, Blythe could feel a sense of peace reigning over her heart and her whole system. But she was also praying that they would be home quickly because she couldn't explain the sudden thirst in her throat like there was something that was urging her to alleviate it in one way or another.

Kiara's mind was racing as she paced back and forth in her living room, unable to shake the thirst that was consuming her. She had tried to eat food, but everything tasted odd in her mouth, and she couldn't keep anything down. The only thing she wanted was blood, and it scared her to her core. She screamed in frustration, hoping that someone would hear her and come to her aid. But there was no one to help her, and she was on her own. She had to figure out a way to control her thirst before it consumed her completely.

Vincent gasped again and shook his head. "Oh God, what happened to me? I want to drink; I'm thirsty!" Vincent turned around and took the glass containing the rest of the water he had drunk earlier. He tried everything but to no avail. The rancid smell of blood was increasingly bothering his senses now. It is not disgust but an unbearable thirst. And unfortunately, his hand hurt even more. "Ah, help me!" Vincent asked quickly, then turned back to the blood splattered on the floor when a nurse was stopping the man's bleeding. Every drop of blood felt so tempting. Vincent couldn't stop licking his lips and gasping. He wanted to sip

But the thirst didn't fade. I pushed myself upright, the mattress sighing beneath me, and drew in a slow breath through my nose. Cool air. Dust. Old wood. Nothing else. I waited for the craving to ebb the way fear always did once the darkness lost its teeth. It stayed. It gnawed at me, coiling tight behind my ribs, sending restless sparks through my limbs. My fingers curled and uncurled against the blanket. I scratched at my arms, then harder, nails biting into skin until thin lines flared white. It didn't help.