Story cover for Die Blutgabe by kathylovebocks
Die Blutgabe
  • WpView
    LECTURAS 70
  • WpVote
    Votos 12
  • WpPart
    Partes 6
  • WpHistory
    Hora 53m
  • WpView
    LECTURAS 70
  • WpVote
    Votos 12
  • WpPart
    Partes 6
  • WpHistory
    Hora 53m
Continúa, Has publicado feb 02, 2016
Contenido adulto
Mensch - oder Vampir? Red September muss sich entscheiden - will er seine Geliebte retten Vampire haben die Herrschaft an sich gerissen und Menschen zu Sklaven gemacht. In den Machtkampf zwischen alten und jungen Vampiren gerät der Mensch Red September, als er loszieht, um seine Geliebte zu suchen. Er schließt sich Extremisten an, die sich zum Ziel gesetzt haben, alle neuartigen Vampire auszurotten. Von ihnen lässt er sich zu einem Vampirjäger ausbilden, doch dann muss Red feststellen, dass seine Geliebte selbst zum Vampir geworden ist. Er steht nun vor einer schweren Entscheidung: Seine Geliebte zu erlösen, oder aber selbst ein Vampir zu werden ...
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† 𝔩𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 /ˈ𝔩ɪ𝔪ə𝔯ə𝔫𝔰/ 𝔞𝔡𝔧𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔢: 𝔞 𝔣𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔦𝔵𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫; 𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔶 𝔬𝔟𝔰𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰, 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔠𝔦𝔱𝔶, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔡𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔶; ∴ 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 † "Then tell me," I rasp. "Tell me and I'll deal with it. I'll handle it. Just-don't shut me out." "I can't," she says again, voice breaking. "I can't tell you. I can't be with you. And I can't stand here and watch you break and know that I'm the reason." She swallows hard, her throat moving. "Please don't make me explain it. Please just... stop." I take a step toward her anyway, rain dripping from my eyelashes, my chest hollow. "I don't care if it kills me," I say, and it's not bravado; it's a man with nothing left to barter. "If that's the price, fine. At least then I get to be with you before it ends." She makes a small sound, half sob, half laugh, and it's the most human thing I've ever heard from her. "Don't say that," she whispers, almost fierce. "Don't ever say that." She holds my eyes for one last beat, lips parted like she might say something else - something that could undo all of this, something that could make the rain stop mattering. But she doesn't. Instead, she exhales, low and unsteady, and shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she says again, softer now, like a confession. Then she turns. And that's it.
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† 𝔩𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 /ˈ𝔩ɪ𝔪ə𝔯ə𝔫𝔰/ 𝔞𝔡𝔧𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔢: 𝔞 𝔣𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔦𝔵𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫; 𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔶 𝔬𝔟𝔰𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰, 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔠𝔦𝔱𝔶, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔡𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔶; ∴ 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 † "Then tell me," I rasp. "Tell me and I'll deal with it. I'll handle it. Just-don't shut me out." "I can't," she says again, voice breaking. "I can't tell you. I can't be with you. And I can't stand here and watch you break and know that I'm the reason." She swallows hard, her throat moving. "Please don't make me explain it. Please just... stop." I take a step toward her anyway, rain dripping from my eyelashes, my chest hollow. "I don't care if it kills me," I say, and it's not bravado; it's a man with nothing left to barter. "If that's the price, fine. At least then I get to be with you before it ends." She makes a small sound, half sob, half laugh, and it's the most human thing I've ever heard from her. "Don't say that," she whispers, almost fierce. "Don't ever say that." She holds my eyes for one last beat, lips parted like she might say something else - something that could undo all of this, something that could make the rain stop mattering. But she doesn't. Instead, she exhales, low and unsteady, and shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she says again, softer now, like a confession. Then she turns. And that's it.