Hunger [HIATUS]

Hunger [HIATUS]

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Aug 27, 2018
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Fiction
Horror
Do you know what the problem with the people around you is? They die. Maybe you think it's because of the line of work they have chosen, a twisted turn of fate or very bad luck, but you are still here, aren't you? The city can rot, the world can burn, but you are still standing. Against all the odds you are still alive. Fate it's an interesting thing, isn't it? But maybe it isn't; maybe it's not fate at all. Maybe it's only you. Have you ever thought about that? Have you ever thought that maybe they might've been right all along? Have you ever thought you are cursed? Only, the target of that bad luck isn't yourself but whoever has the misfortune to come into contact with you. You are like the carrier of a plague, spreading the contagion. A walking calamity that kills everything it touches. ------FIRST DRAFT----- WARNING: Irregular update
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cannibalism
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[BUNDLE] BOOK 1: There's a reason buried things should always stay buried. For better or for worse. To have and to hold a demon for eternity. She says demons haunt the night, inflecting everything in their path. But where I come from demons don't just lurk around the shadows. They breed in your head. Feasting on your soul until you cease to exist. And, mine just woke up infested in wicked lies. Till death do us apart, little soul. BOOK 2: Girls like them are expected to dance to the tune of evil. To smile with the taste of souls in their veins and vengeance in their hearts. To feed the ghosts and the monsters within them. Discarded by the world and hidden in a maze of twisted creatures, I'm barely holding into my sanity, trapped between the past and the present. Between good and evil. Until one day I no longer recognize myself or them. He says he can see beyond the evil that I am. But it's not him that my madness prevails for or HIM. Because I'm starting to hear their tune, dancing to destruction and chaos. BOOK 3: There's a reason buried things should always stay buried. Like my mistakes. Your past. Now the grave is open and corpses are crawling out. Corpses inflicted with lies and betrayals. Corpses that you pull the strings of, corpses that even Hell is afraid to take. You see, little soul, you think that makes you the monster in our story. But you forgot me. You forgot my promise. Our story might have ended with till death do us apart. But even death has a shadow to lose.

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