Thirst Smallville Novels & Stories

“Thank you, Tullio. I knew you’d find me.” My mind was racing. I couldn’t show fear. If I angered him, I knew exactly how this could end—my head smashed against the wall, a fractured temporal bone… and no one to pull him off me this time. He lingered, eyes searching my face like I was a puzzle he’d already solved. “I’m thirsty,” I murmured, barely moving my lips. “Could I have some lemonade? You know the one I like.” He smiled, pleased—of course he remembered. He always remembered the details that made him feel powerful.

“It is blood. And it is the only thing that will quench the thirst that consumes you. Drink, girl, or you will die.” His words were flat, unyielding. No compassion, just brutal fact. My gaze darted between the flask of dark liquid and Lysander’s unreadable face. Die. The word echoed in my mind. Die here, after everything? After surviving Kieran’s rage and Rhys’s betrayal? After running from everything I knew? The thirst was a living thing inside me now, a monster gnawing at my insides. It pulsed, a rhythmic agony. My head throbbed. Every instinct screamed no, but my body was screaming survive.

He was left in his undershirt, his arms bare against the cold. "You can look now." I managed to say and he turned. His face was careful, and controlled, making me feel at ease with him. "I'm thirsty." I managed to mutter, biting on the dried hamburger from the cold. He brought the vial forward. "Then, drink." I looked away from it. "I don't need this. I need water." But his hands were still stretched out. "Just drink it." I took it slowly and the liquid burned going down. But the pain in my stomach eased, and the thirst lessened. I felt the bleeding stopped.

He closed his eyes for a moment, this reality also took some getting used to. The girls calmed down and now sat next to their brother every now and then pushing him in the side. Kim tried to brush them off, but he didn't even try to get up. Vic easily jumped back onto the cliff and handed the flask to the children. Lana and Mila greedily pounced on the water. Hearing that they were taking away each other's flask, the teenager forced himself to tear himself away from the road and take a sitting position. - This is water? he croaked. - I'm dying of thirst.

The transition , the betrayal of breath, the panic of lungs realizing air is no longer a right. Long or brief , it does not matter. What matters is that she sees the cost of her indifference. That she understands, at last, that some hungers do not fade. They wait. I push the door open. The hallway closes around me. Behind me, the shadow seals itself shut. And thirst , my oldest companion, my truest one , begins to pound inside my chest, steady and violent, like a heart that has waited far too long to beat. Very soon, she will die.

Clark Kent doesn't answer; he just pushes past him into the hallway, his face flushed with dark excitement as he flees the house. Rodolpho Simmons stands alone, his fingers sliding down into his own underwear, finding himself completely soaked with pre-cum as he prepares to drive back to Oliver Queen's waiting arms.

She paused, tilting her head. "And you?" "I love the quiet moments right before the city wakes up," Chloe murmured, staring into her mug. "And thrift store books. The ones with notes scribbled in the margins by strangers. I hate small talk, and I absolutely despise the sound of car alarms." They shared small, sudden bursts of laughter as they compared notes on their lives—Thalia’s intense dislike of overly sweet human food versus Chloe’s absolute dependence on sugary iced coffee; Chloe’s fascination with the vastness of the ocean versus Thalia’s deeply rooted preference for the solid, unchanging earth of dense forests.

"My father will kill you if you dare lay your filthy hands on me." She turned away, muttering under her breath. Talking made her throat hurt, and Dylan didn't look like he was ready to give her any water. Then a sound caught her attention. The swish of water. She turned in time to find him lift a small jar of water and drink from it. Her thirst suddenly intensified as she watched him. Dylan knew exactly what he was doing. He took a long drink from the jar and lowered it. Then he suddenly held it out to her.

I could hear a bug crawling along the floor, a cricket scratching his legs together out in the fields, a mouse scurrying across the cellar floor, and three magical hearts pumping beautiful, rich, nutritious, delicious blood on the opposite side of the bolted door. I needed to get to that blood to quench my driving thirst. I was sure I could drink gallons and gallons of it and still not have enough. I’d never been so thirsty. When I tried to leave the bed to seek out the blood that called to me, I found myself restrained by Geo’s vice grip. “Hold steady, baby,” he said softly. “Luthias and I will help you. Try to be calm.” “I’m thirsty,” I said with incredible aggression.

Steph pov It's been three days that I started not to eat anything. I was restless every day and I'm always thirsty. My dry throat was looking for a drink that can satisfy his thirst but I drunk two 5 liters of water or juice and milk every day but I'm still craving a drink. Seems like my appetite became bigger and bigger. My lips were dry and my body felt limp. I couldn't stand straight and I'm only lying in my bed waiting for another day until I couldn't hold it anymore. I'm now a vampire and I won't use my new me to kill my race. To kill my family and friends.