A treat to that sweet tooth. Crimson is beautiful when they touch it. The skin quivers upon their breath. Mystery becomes delicious in a nightly shroud. Tri-chapter.
Your humble servant promises no interruptions throughout the story. This dark work is read best in a calm atmosphere.
Disclaimer: The uploading author does not own Twilight and related concepts.
All is Hunger
Feels good when they bleed. No craving can match the royalty of Hunger.
They bow down to my power and kneel by my wishes. Since birth, every creature succumbs to the will that strokes the delicate strings of fate to join the melody. Sentient beings call it life. I named it me.
Others do not matter. Whatever they feel goes back down to my abyss. Hunger conquers all. It is supreme. My wings spread above love, above fear, so every filthy animal experiences their master's existence.
When he stalked prey, the id-ridden male believed it was his choice. Once he smiled that toothy smirk, the man addressed as Edward Cullen honestly thought he called the shots. How deeply rewarding confusion is. The only choice they ever make is to serve or die a death as gruesome as my wrath. No slave is granted permission to leave my stables. Ever.
Resist all they wish. The next mind game only makes it better, because flesh is tempting to men and women alike. Though, when I tickle the senses and set them drifting to one clear goal, it becomes unbearably seductive. No holds barred for the predator. He will use every trick I have written in the hallow pages of that egoistic brain.
The male is strong, I say. The dance begins now, I command. And the better he obeys, the greater rewards he shall reap.
Good pups never strain their leashes. That is why I have such a passionate fascination with night creatures. Reigns of my power are burrowed deep into their undying subconscious. The worm roots itself in every cell to vibrate according to one…suggestion: "Eat. It's good for you."
I relax and enjoy another seed welling up to pop into a vibrant growth. It kisses the fertile soil of the pale body, and lodges inside to prosper with the rest. The next bite brings him closer to me. Eventually, they are assimilated, having completed the trip to the ultimate truth: I am everyone and everywhere.
Remorse is unknown to the enlightened. Their essence is purified from everything additional and unnecessary. When they are ready to consciously and fully accept me, I allow nightmares to become most secret fantasies.
And so I set those inside me free, knowing they have learnt the rules perfectly and the only fantasy left is to make me proud. It's good to make your master happy.
Though, happiness is alien to me. Unlike pleasure of fulfilment. They thrive in it as I prosper in them, my wonderful tools and obedient limbs. Wise and omnipotent, the ethereal whole does not ignore a part's plead to be brought into contentment. Only an imaginary god would ignore their selflessness and sacrifice for my welfare.
Feeding is a risk while death is certain. Those who agree to exist by the terms of a full life are rewarded with its finest gems. My inheritance spreads to beings that became my fingertips, my lips and feet. They receive the sacred right to take in my name.
And so they do. And so he does.
Why?
Because I can and wish myself to. Life does not truly exist without me. For without the almighty Hunger, existence is doomed to eternal waste. Idle, imperfect, like lambs sent into Slaughter. I know her. The beast is Entropy, and she shan't have my kingdom.
For my slaves are empty without their caring sovereign. The servants are lost without a leader. My members require a body to belong to. I save them inside myself. The rest does not matter. It is irrelevant and will be erased from their minds.
The longer they live, the cleaner their essence becomes. A perfect image of the one that gives life. A tool to take it back and feed the young.
Some creatures remain this way forever. Vibrant, replenished, so alive – my most successful reins. No one else is as close to Hunger as they are.
Built to feast and born to dominate. Nature's credit goes as far as conception. As soon as it reaches existence, it is mine. The moment a child lodges itself in a parent's tummy, I stream my slithering tentacles into the tiny creature, connecting the foetus with the world. An impulse to take spills in its system, and the living drain leeches from the host. The first sip of matter enters the body. It feels good to eat. It is marvellous to take. They never forget that, which allowed them to stand high above the rest…far earlier than a cradle.
This is when I've acquired Edward Cullen. A lovely child joined my chorus, its heart grumbling like a black hole. First cries caught him warmth. Tears filled the stomach. He would be preserved from the point. The disciple strived to be a part of the master from the beginning.
My gain was great. By allowing his physique to shape into the wanted design, I have bargained in a fair trade. The strong man would not feed to exist. Dear Edward would decide to live as a disciple should, by mimicking the master's craftsmanship.
Spread the invisible strings in the wind. Connect them to those around him.
Good work. Excellent work. Hearts throb to be taken by the hunter, and now each of them can be heard inside his head. The longer they live, the more powerful the threads become. Creatures of the night learn to use the very strings to allow prey to be feasted on.
An ultimate sacrifice in the jaws' altar. When the net is cast, it's a matter of time before someone responds. The heart is elusive, but pathetically loyal when befriended. The selfish organ likes visitors to fill it and would gladly betray the host for company.
That it does every time. No exceptions. One flicker of response is enough. Then the hunter has to choose the most treacherous being. Beauty is health. Appeal means strength. Rich fabrics define taste. The combination calls for an entrancing game.
A part of the victim's body is in his possession. No turning back. The heart demands the whole to join it. His own blood agrees to answer the plead. Edward's mind does not exist in the process. It is but a spectator of my order…and his ego that grows with every bite.
The predator approaches his victim. He bows and greets her. The girl is scared, tension visible in her eyes. But the swan gives in from the inside. Another kind word of assurance joins the fatal pulse. It beats like crazy. The heart cracks to spread betrayal and fake safety. They knock on the mind's doorstep.
Just a story to keep it occupied. Her heart repeats every word in a whisper. The fingertips quiver strangely. But the mind can no longer record them. It is dazed with little lies, each so shiny and wonderful.
His strings attach to her limbs. Not even I can cut them now. The hunter's welfare cannot go against the will I express through Edward.
They join hands. Her plump fingers stream wonderful warmth inside. My servant closes his eyes, entranced by the healthy flow. It rages like an untamed river, and it wouldn't resist becoming his waterfall.
The female's fragrance coils inside the man's nostrils. Like her supple hand, it breathes temptation onto the skin. Vapours enchant the creature of the night. His vampiric instincts rattle excitedly from the catch. My limb can no longer wait. The woman's body pulls him in for a kiss.
Her fluid smears his lips; they taste victory. Edward does not hold back, readily nibbling hers. The girl knows all she should. She realises the touch is acute. The victim feels passion splashing forcefully into her mouth to cover her core. Hands hold them together, but her nails sway down already, drunk from long awaited excitement. Much unlike his: greedily caressing the warm person, eating her with his eyes. A soft pink gleams on her cheeks. I hiss inside him like a viper. Soon, Edward. Let Hunger be your wisdom.
Pressing her close, the man is enveloped in his victim's energy. Nothing else matters anymore. May it be a woodland evening or a dimly-lit alley, they add no value to his goals.
She loves being the centre of attention. Her heart purrs and jumps from how his lips tickle her skin. They travel on the cheek to her earlobe, whispering a strong blush into her face. The world begins spinning. She latches onto the vampire, ready to be accepted.
A delusional daydream sets a veil on her senses. She knows she is wanted, but her restrained thoughts cannot comprehend his plan. The blood vessel can barely distinguish anything except his touch. Her mind becomes drowsy, abandoning the dainty form.
The jaws part, teeth grinding on the skin. She gasps on instinct. They fulfil her now. The girl's well brims with hope. When his tongue caresses the dainty surface, her skin becomes tense, wanting to listen to everything his body would tell. And a vocal speaker it is.
Excited from his own ego, the carnivore squeezes her tight. The kiss awaits in her daydream.
Death descends upon her flesh in reality. He eagerly sinks his teeth into the woman's skin, daggers piercing tissue and breaking the veins. The fragrance is unbearable. Her crimson wishes to flood out and make him warm, pooling on the tongue. It retreats from the weak body to reach into his mouth. Her organs fail to obey. The heart is forever stuck in its dream. The girl's mind drifts away and blacks out. Sentience disappears. Hunger prevails in solitude.
He slurps and groans in satisfaction. Power flashes in his muscles. Senses turn acute and responsive. The strings he once cast into the female now retract from a corpse. Just a few drops left. Those final bits are the tastiest and must be consumed. Yes, he has them. The fisherman gathers his nets, licking the blood-coated lips clean. Her flavour will serve him right for a few hours.
Conquest is incredible. It provides the impetus to conquer again. Not once will the hunter feel remorse about such actions. He has crossed the line of birth and was chosen to belong to the world of reality.
To the eternally hungry. To Me.