When Is Sonic'S Birthday

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

SHADOW” is about Liam Remmick and his adventures in seeking revenge. His father, Steve Nazar abandoned the mother when she was still pregnant. After the death of his mother he lived from one orphanage to another until he was thrown out to fend for himself. Because no other orphanage agreed to take him in, mostly because of his sadist character, he lives in a cave eating whatever he finds. Most times he would steal food and fruits from vendors—he would be caught, beaten to a pulp and the food he stole would be taken from him. He would go home empty handed with nothing but a bruised face and a few broken bones and swollen eyes. When he’s not stealing fruits he’s either hunting for game or mushroom. On a faithful day when he came home to his cave after a sunny day of getting nothing, he noticed someone was in his cave and after having a short squabble with the stranger—as usual Liam is good at picking fights but rarely wins any. The strange figure introduces himself as Seth, Liam’s Uncle. Liam recognised his face from the picture his mother would always look at if she missed home. Seth is Liam’s mother’s baby brother. That day is the first day Liam is meeting him or any of his relatives. Seth has been looking for him after he heard his sister died, he was close to giving up when he finally stumbles on a cave to rest and tend to his wounds only for him to meet his nephew living like a caveman. He takes him home to the Shadow Realm—is the home of people with the ability to control Shadows, Liam’s father was from there but he deserted the place.

On my younger brother's 18th birthday, our parents book the most expensive revolving restaurant in the city to celebrate with him. But all because a waiter accidentally splashes a bit of water on the edge of his sneakers, my brother, Samuel Stone, blows up on the spot. "Do you have any idea how rare these are? They're limited-edition worldwide! Not even your life is worth as much as them!" The waiter, Rowan Lane, shakes in fright and bows his head, apologizing profusely. But Samuel just keeps going and makes a mountain out of a molehill. He even orders Rowan to get on his knees and lick his shoes clean. Our parents, who have always spoiled Samuel rotten, jump in to back him up. They yell at Rowan like he's committed some unforgivable crime. When this happens in my last life, I can't stand it. I step in and talk my family down, finally ending the farce. Unbeknownst to me, someone films the entire thing and posts it online. People on the internet call me kind and brave. By comparison, Samuel's tantrum makes him look like an entitled, vicious brat. He gets torn apart across every platform. He holds a grudge against me for it. After tricking me up onto the rooftop of a 30-story building, he shoves me off without a second thought. From that height, I hit the concrete and die on impact. When I open my eyes again, I'm back in that restaurant—right at the moment Samuel is pointing at Rowan and cursing him out. What Samuel doesn't know is that this "nobody" he's screaming at is actually the only son of the city's richest man, who went missing years ago. All the humiliation and insult Samuel dishes out that day is going to come back as one hell of a revenge.

My wife, Heather Conner, secretly steals the funds I've saved up for our daughter, Naomi Hartman's surgery. After that, she books a high-class hotel for Jared Winters, the low-income student she has been sponsoring, just so she can celebrate his birthday with him. When I find out about it, I demand that Heather return all the money to me. But she slaps me immediately and blames me and Naomi for causing her trouble on purpose. "This is the first birthday Jared and I are celebrating together! Since it's such a big day, it's only natural that I hold it in a grand and lavish manner! "Instead, you two insist on undergoing that stupid surgery just when I've booked the hotel instead of scheduling it at any other time! You really are vile! "I've already inquired with the doctor about the surgery. Turns out it's completely optional! I might as well put the money to good use by giving Jared an unforgettable birthday instead of having you waste it on a useless surgery! "Even if Naomi does end up dying, that means she's fated to die anyway! You can't blame anyone for her death!" Heather just abandons Naomi, who's still fighting for her life. She then drives Jared to the hotel, where they spend the night watching a beautiful fireworks display. With 12 critical notices issued by the doctor in my hand, I kneel before Monica Brown, the richest woman in the city. "I'm willing to marry into your family as long as you pay me 35 thousand dollars' worth of wedding gifts!"

On our wedding anniversary, I canceled all my meetings and made a reservation at a restaurant. That evening, my wife, the renowned investigative journalist Amaya Shaw, called me. “Efim, I’m sorry! I just received a tip from a source. It’s urgent. “It involves inside information about a well-known company. I have to go verify it immediately!” But the next day, I saw that Javor Furey, the junior she had brought along, had posted a collage on his social media. The central photo showed Amaya wearing a childish birthday hat. Her head was pressed against Javor’s, as they made a wish together in front of a cake covered in candles. This was the caption. [Thanks, my dear Ms. Shaw! Even in the midst of her busy schedule chasing big stories, she remembered to give me this surprise birthday!] [Chasing big stories.] I stared at those three words. Then, I glanced at the limited-edition bag on our dining table. It was the one she had been raving about for half a year. It was the anniversary gift I had prepared for her. I felt absurd. I commented just two words under that post. [How touching.] Her call came in almost the second I hit send. She sounded furious. “Efim, do you have to be so sarcastic? “It’s just an anniversary. How old are you? Why are you still celebrating such childish anniversaries?” From our first year of marriage to the present, her “tip-offs from informants” and “special circumstances” always took precedence over our promises. This time, she could not even be bothered to come up with a plausible excuse. I did not say anything. I hung up and blocked her number. This marriage was over.

Every bonding anniversary, Shawn would bring home a new human girl from the outside—always under the lovely pretense of letting me mentor her on how to serve an Alpha. On our seventh anniversary, he brought back a nightclub girl dressed in a Princess Snow White outfit—cheap satin trembling under the chandelier's light. “She doesn’t have anything appropriate for an occasion like this,” he said casually. “Let her borrow your bonding dress. And the jewelry I gave you last time. As for shoes—what you're wearing now will do.” Then he added, with a trace of irony, “She’s just a young human girl, clueless. Teach her a few things about our world, will you? Especially the part about the bed.” Everyone was waiting for the spectacle—for me to break again, as I always had. And I didn’t disappoint them. I looked at Shawn, my voice steady, and said I wanted a bond-severance. He laughed—short and sharp—and leaned back like he was watching a comedy. “Clara, when are you going to stop with this bond-severance nonsense? I’ve heard it so many times. They’re just human girls, while you are my Luna. How could they ever compare to you?” Then, grinning as if doing me a favor, he added, “Fine. If you really want a bond-severance, I’ll gift you a territory in the south. Consider it a reward for doing your job as my Luna.” The room erupted in laughter. To them, I was ridiculous—greedy, jealous, hysterical. But what they didn’t know was that this was the 365th time I’d asked for a bond-severance. And the first time, I truly meant it. When he found out I wasn’t joking this time, he lost his composure. He searched for me across the world—only after he realized I was no longer where he thought I’d always be.