30 Days Of Night 3 Novels & Stories

Just three more days Then it’s over And if it’s not Then we run again But this time Together I looked at him This boy Who was supposed to be a stranger Now he was the only person between me and everything bad Okay I said Three days He smiled Small Real Good Now go inside Sleep I’ll watch the road That night I slept in the bed Nico slept on the floor Ray slept in the chair with his gun No one came No cars No knocks Just the sound of the wind At 3am I woke up To Nico sitting by the window Watching Gun in his lap You okay I whispered Yeah he said Go back to sleep I can’t Come here then I got out of bed Sat on the floor next to him We didn’t talk Just sat Watching the dark Three days he said We

"Of everyone I’ve watched. And killed. You’re next." He held out his hand. The ground started shaking. __"Let’s begin. A 3-night game. First night: Fear. Second night: Pain. Third night: Death."__ He drew a line on the ground with his finger. __"Step inside the line, Bella. Or I’ll step inside."_* I gripped the knife tighter. Took a breath. And took one step forward. Inside the line.

I set it down carefully, my full attention on the phone. "When?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt. "Thirty days from today. October twentieth." The kitchen seemed to tilt slightly. I gripped the edge of the counter. "Thirty days," I repeated, the words not quite processing. Braham's head snapped up from his laptop, his eyes locking onto mine with sudden intensity.

She reached carefully for the phone, angled the screen away from him, and read the message. Four words and a number. Thirty days. Complete it. She read it twice. Set the phone down. Stared at the ceiling. Dominic shifted. Pulled her closer. Murmured something low that might have been her name. She lay perfectly still. Thirty days to do what she came here to do. What she had been placed in this apartment, this bed, this man's life to do. Her phone buzzed again. No words this time. Just a photograph. A woman. Silver hair. Standing on the street directly outside the building.

“You mean your shiny tower where nobody talks to each other and everything costs triple what normal people can afford. You’re a soulless—” He caught her wrist, grip firm but not painful. Their eyes locked. The air thickened, charged. His gaze dropped to her mouth again, longer this time. Elena’s breath caught. For one dangerous heartbeat, she thought he might kiss her. Or she might kiss him. Either option felt like stupid in there situation. Instead he released her like she’d burned him and stepped back. “Thirty days,” he said, voice rough. “Try harder than nostalgia and rose bushes, Miss Reyes. Or this ends exactly how I planned.”

Nico follows seconds later—burying himself in Victor, coming with a low, possessive growl that vibrates through all three of us. They don’t pull out immediately. They stay locked together—bodies trembling, breathing ragged—while I lie beneath them, dripping, marked, claimed. Antonio stands slowly. His hand trembles slightly as he picks up the whiskey glass. He drains it. Sets it down. Looks at the three of us—tangled, spent, breathing each other in. His voice is barely above a whisper. “Three nights left.” He walks to the door. Pauses with his hand on the handle.

Only then do I step away, pull my thong up, smooth my skirt. He’s on his knees, face destroyed, glasses crooked, chin dripping with me. I pat his cheek. “Good boy. Now lock the front and take me to Screen 3.” His hands are shaking so badly he drops the keys twice. Screen 3 is half-full tonight, some indie romance, maybe twenty people scattered throughout. The theater is darker than sin. Only the flickering silver of the screen and the low amber exit signs give any light. Twenty-three people tonight, scattered like loose change down front and middle. We slip into the very back row, far left corner, last two seats. Noah’s hand is slick with sweat around mine; he’s shaking so hard his teeth are

He had enough ghosts of his own. It happens on the fifth night. The neon sign was buzzing outside the shop as the last customer left. The car wash shut down. Jaylen locked the front doors, Marco mopped the tile and Rico was still shirtless in the wash bay, scrubbing oil stains from the cement floor. The security camera above him were blinking red. Upstairs, The Boss lit a cigarette and watched him on the screen. Smoke curled from his lips as he took in the image: Rico bent over, his muscles taut and his sweats were dripping down his spine.

She said with tears in her eyes and looked at him. “I have no reason.” He replied and she sighed. “Can we talk about the contract?” “If you are okay with it” “It's not like I have a choice, the only way you have sex is through that way.” She sighed and kept going through it. “It says here that you only spend thirty days with your sub, why are you spending ninety days with me?

I thought he had lost his tongue because he was so quiet. "Deal. But—" "But again?" I asked annoyed. I also cut him off because I didn't want to hear any more nonsense. "Give me thirty days, Lessanna." I frowned at him. I don’t understand what the thirty days he’s asking for are for. "30 days for what?" I asked him confusingly. "Thirty days to fall in love with me." he said and left me abruptly. I haven't even agreed yet but if he acts like that, it's as if I'm really going to agree with his wishes.