Novel & Cerita Waking Up With Black Tongue

When I woke up again, there was nobody in my room, but at least my throat was starting to feel a lot better and I blacked out again. I remember opening my eyes at some point and it was dark out, but I was still so tired that I fell asleep again quickly. When I woke up again, it was morning and I felt stronger. My throat had completely healed, but when I tried to talk, my voice almost sounded damaged. There was a nurse in my room again who quickly informed the doctor that I was awake and he smiled when he walked in.

CHAPTER 138: Not an emperor, not a slave girl When I opened my eyes the next morning, even for the briefest second, I almost believed things might be normal again. The nausea that had plagued me these past days was not present. No rolling stomach, no sudden retching, no weakness clawing at the back of my throat. I was about to believe that the remedy to my dilemma was a midnight pan of apple pie. But my relief was short-lived, because instead of sickness there was a different kind of heaviness; bone-deep, suffocating exhaustion that made even the thought of getting out of bed feel impossible. It was the same lethargy that had suddenly seeped into my bones last night. Not to talk of the stran

(Present) TIFFANY WEST Blackness. Inky and stagnant. It dripped into my subconscious. It was often an escape from reality, a comfort in the madness. But this time they whispered to me, telling me not to wake up now, not to wake up ever. Unfortunately, a pulsing ache in my head wakes me up. Feeling like roadkill, I let out a groan as a wake of nausea hit. “Dear God,” I groaned. Throwing the covers, I almost fell out of bed. Even my steps felt loud as I stumbled to the bathroom.

He guided me swiftly to the bathroom, his arm firm around my waist as I staggered to the sink. The moment I reached it, I collapsed to my knees, my body convulsing as I heaved violently. What came out wasn’t normal—it was a thick, black liquid, oozing from my mouth in a way that made my skin crawl. The bitter taste from before intensified, burning my throat as the viscous substance splattered into the sink.

Support is what you offer someone when you’re not planning to save them. I wake up and the room is the same shade of white it was when I fell asleep. I don’t know how long I’ve been out. My mouth tastes like metal, and my tongue feels too big in my mouth, like it doesn’t belong there. A monitor ticks behind me with a steady insistence. The sound is small but it owns the air.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX I woke up with something long and leggy skittering over my mouth. I sat up, spitting and sputtering, and the dark thing faded into the darkness. There’s nothing like tasting demonic viscera when you’re coming to. My life rocks.

(Thomas) There was a funny taste in my mouth when I woke up, making me realize that I had gone to bed without brushing my teeth which was odd because I never skipped on brushing. However, even more odd was the fact that I had someone in my arms. I blinked open my eyes against the harsh rays of the sun and the first thing I noticed was red curls which I love more than anything in the world but in the moment, they were kind of all over my face. And it itches.

Havoc "You look even better in my clothes this morning." Lame. The words I spoke were so lame. Usually I'm much smoother than this. When I woke up, I'd been disoriented, wondering why I was still in bed with it being so light outside. Then bits and pieces of the night before had come back to me, and then I'd made the mistake of trying to swallow and almost come off the bed. Right now, it feels as if there are shards of glass working their way out of my throat and tonsils. Leaning against the wall, I cross my arms over my t-shirt covered chest, surprised at how warm it is in here.

It crept in, soft and merciless, and pulled me under. Before I realized it, sleep swallowed me whole. The next morning, my head was pounding before I even opened my eyes. My body felt overheated, the curse pulsing under my skin like something alive. When I finally dragged myself out of bed and into the hallway, half of my face burned—literally burned. I found a mirror and froze. Black. Half my face was completely black. It was spreading faster. I didn’t have time to panic. I didn’t have time for anything anymore. I went straight to the art wing where Alex was usually early, hoping he hadn’t wandered off painting somewhere. Lucky for me, he was just stepping out of his studio, covered in spla

​I squeeze my eyes shut in absolute, primal revulsion. ​His tongue is hot, wet, and tastes abhorrently of nightshade and rotting copper. He presses it firmly against the point of my chin. ​A disgusted, muffled scream tears from my throat as he drags his tongue slowly and deliberately all the way up my jawline. He leaves a thick, sickening trail of saliva across my skin, tracing the exact path up to the shell of my ear.