Download Chereads APP
Chereads App StoreGoogle Play
Chereads

Personal Hell Horror

The Undead's Personal Slave

Samantha never expected to find magic in her hometown, let alone in a dimly lit bar on a rainy Tuesday night. Yet here she was, perched on a barstool at the Black Swan, her world about to tilt on its axis. The air thrummed with an otherworldly energy she couldn't quite place. Ethereal dancers moved like smoke across the floor, their bodies fluid and mesmerizing. As Samantha nursed her drink, she felt the weight of curious stares prickling her skin. That's when she saw him. Marcus. A name she didn't know yet, but one that would soon be etched into her very soul. Their eyes locked across the crowded room, and Samantha's breath caught in her throat. He moved with predatory grace, all lean muscle and barely restrained power. Their first interaction was as intoxicating as it was bewildering. One moment, he was her gallant protector, rescuing her from an overly aggressive drunk. The next, his eyes hardened to chips of ice as he snarled, "Stupid girl," before melting into the shadows. Samantha's mind reeled, but her body hummed with an excitement she couldn't explain. Little did she know, this encounter was merely the first step into a world beyond her wildest fantasies – a realm where vampires ruled the night and pain blurred exquisitely with pleasure. As she delved deeper into this hidden society, Samantha found herself drawn to the intoxicating blend of power, submission, and supernatural allure. The crack of a whip, the whisper of leather, the exquisite sting of fangs – each sensation pushed her boundaries and ignited desires she never knew existed. But with every ecstatic high came the sobering reality of danger. Vampire politics were as deadly as they were intricate, and Samantha soon realized she was a pawn in a game where the stakes were life, death, and eternal servitude. As she left the Black Swan that night, Samantha couldn't shake the feeling that she stood on the precipice of something life-changing. She had no idea how right she was, or how deeply she would fall into a passionate, dangerous dance with forces beyond her imagination. The real question was: in this world where pleasure and peril intertwined so intimately, would she emerge empowered... or lose herself completely?
rach_sales · 113.2K Views

Horror Trainee Program

DISCLAIMER: This story is not owned by me. All rights belong to the original author and copyright holder. This copy is provided for offline reading purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended, and if the rightful owner requests removal, it will be taken down immediately. The washed-up magician Zong Jiu transmigrated into a horror, infinite flow novel about a survival show, taking the place of the cannon fodder who died tragically in the first evaluation round. This show was very interesting. Out of the tens of thousands of people, only a hundred people could survive, and the c-position (strongest contender) could even get a universal wish ticket. If it were someone else, they’d probably be scared to death. No one expected that Zong Jiu was not only unafraid, but also caused a sensational stir, shamelessly showing off his tricks the whole way. Once his tricks stopped, and his life could be considered safe and sound, he ended up in a rivalry with the novel’s big villain. Today you try to get at me, tomorrow I’ll get you back, back and forth, it’s pretty fun, heh. As a result, though it was just playing around, one time they got carried away and really did end up sleeping together. Watching the nemesis who was pressing him to the ground, Zong Jiu lazily lifted his gaze. “If you want to kill me then kill me, don’t speak nonsense.” Even when at a disadvantage, he showed no trace of fear, and actually continued to provoke him. That person used his ice-cold finger to trace his ear, and the action heading toward the aorta suddenly stopped. “What a pity. I’ve changed my mind.” — He was once very willing to personally give Zong Jiu death. Every day, he used to regret not gouging out his flesh, personally snapping his neck. But after this person fell into his hands, another, more urgent desire grew like weeds. Compared to winning or losing, he would rather see him crying and panting, with eyes red, begging for mercy.
zarawang · 2.8K Views
Related Topics
More