Story cover for Red Eyes. by GalacticPieceOfToast
Red Eyes.
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    LECTURAS 105
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    Votos 20
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    Partes 8
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  • WpView
    LECTURAS 105
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    Votos 20
  • WpPart
    Partes 8
  • WpHistory
    Hora 47m
Continúa, Has publicado feb 03, 2017
Contenido adulto
Kόκκινα μάτια (Pronounced Kókkina mátia) . Greek for "Red Eyes". The Kόκκινα μάτια have been recorded and documented back since ancient times. They hunt humans for a living, devouring and consuming our beings. It seems to be their livelihood just to hunt us down like prey. They look and act like normal people, but when they're out hunting at night, they're full of lust and power. They usually look just like us, but at night while they're hunting, full of bloodlust, they change. The most common sign of them is their red, bloodshot eyes, with white irises. They also have very pale skin, claw-like nails, and strong, sharp teeth. By the time you notice these differences, it's too late to run. It's always, too late.
    
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    This story is set in an alternate universe. Places, characters, and the Kόκκινα μάτια are not real and are just my imagination (obviously). This story does include graphic descriptions of violence/gore and includes profanity. Rated mature due to violence.
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They said the Hunt was sacred. That if I was chosen, it meant fate. But fate didn't feel like a mouth on my skin or claws at my back. It felt like blood. Mine. For years, I stayed hidden. Quiet. Unclaimed. I stole seeds from the state fields, grew food in secret, fed my family from soil and silence. I did everything right - stayed beneath their radar, beneath their noses. I didn't make waves. I didn't ask for more. But monsters never forget a scent. And when the Hunt came, I was scented. Tracked. Taken. I stabbed him. I buried the blade in his shoulder and watched him bleed. It didn't matter. Because he still bit me. And the world saw. Now my face is on every screen. The girl who didn't run. The girl who fought back. Some call me a rebel. Some call me a mate. But they all forget one thing. I wasn't made to be claimed. I was made to survive. And if they want to collar me, cage me, crown me - they'll have to reckon with everything I've kept buried beneath the roots. Because I am not the flower. I'm the fire beneath it. Rewrite version of formerly known book Escaping the monsters Embrace