A Hologram For The King Novel Novels & Stories

White hair hanging in strands around his hateful eyes. The King, I realized. That was what he called himself, anyway, but he was really just a monster who had gone insane from inhaling fumes that caused visions and sickness. The scenes kept coming and coming and coming, faster and faster until they were all a blur with no beginning or end. Andrei in a cage hanging over dark, stinking water. Natalia running through tunnels with the baby clutched in her arms. The King looming behind her, his shadow growing far larger than it should have on the wall behind him. A vial of poisoned water that couldn’t touch her for reasons none of us could know yet.

A billionaire, a hacker, an accountant, a giant bodyguard, a scientist father, a mother who knew too many secrets, and a little girl who could talk to drones. And Grogg. The Rat King sat on a stack of encyclopedias so he could reach the table. He was holding a fork with delicate precision in his scarred, clawed hands. He took a bite of Hailey’s burnt concoction. His eyes widened. He chewed slowly, savoring the taste of burnt chemical preservatives. "It is..." Grogg’s voice was raspy, filled with emotion. "Warm." He looked around the table, his beady eyes shimmering. "In the tunnels... meat is cold. Meat fights back. This... this is a king’s feast."

King laughed maniacally, with his hands spread out. "Tch! It seems you've finally gone crazy from all the bad things you've got yourself involved in. Don't worry, I will help you out of your misery!" Holland declared and walked closer to King and his group of rogues. Seeing him come closer, the rogues growled and snarled at him threateningly. "Do you remember what I said the last time we had an encounter?" Holland asked as his insignia appeared on his forehead. "What are... you... talking about?" King stammered with wide eyes. His forehead glowed darkly, and two black knife-crossing insignias appeared on it. His eyes turned completely dark, and a black mist surrounded his body.

Corvin’s eyes softened, not with kindness, but with recognition. “Good,” the king said. “It would be dull if you were simple.” He walked to the wardrobe on the far wall, opened it, and withdrew a folded cloth. A shirt, simple linen. He held it out. Elowen didn’t move. “Put it on,” Corvin said. “Does my nudity offend you?” “No,” the king said, tone flat. “But it distracts you. And right now, I want your mind.” Elowen’s breath stuttered once, quick, internal, almost invisible.

one barked. “How dare you show such disrespect to the Royal Bloodline of the Northern Vampire King!” Gabriel stared at my son, then at me—his face draining of color. “The… Northern Vampire King’s royal family?” He turned slowly toward my father, seated upon the high throne, his expression cold and impenetrable. And then—astonishingly—Gabriel laughed. “Isabella,” he said loudly, “so this is how you survived? You married some half-dead old—”

Then the King's body shattered. Thousands of blue fragments rose into the air. Like stars. Like fireflies. Like souls finally freed. Then his final words echoed across the kingdom. "Trust the light within you." The fragments drifted into the sky. And vanished. The Last King was gone. Forever. Then something fell from where he had stood. A small crystal object. Ancient. Beautiful. A key. And engraved upon it were three words: FOR THE HEIR ONLY. To Be Continued...

And on a table in the foyer, as if waiting for us, was a single manila folder with a note attached. Proof of the Valcourt lineage. Bloodlines, assets, agents in place. Everything you need to take them down. You're welcome. No signature. Just the same elegant handwriting. Jace opened the folder, and his face went pale. "Sophie. Look at this." He handed me a photograph from inside. It was a surveillance shot—grainy, taken from a distance, but unmistakable. It was me. Standing outside the arena. The night of the fire. The night everything had started. And on the back, in the same handwriting as the note, was a message that made my blood freeze: She's the key. The King's Hart. Protect her at all

Probably his mother. Or perhaps.. the little boy inside him who had been abandoned long before he became the Campus King. Minutes later...He slowly loosened his arms ,Still asleep. Nyra gently guided him back toward their room. He obeyed without resistance, as she tucked the blanket over him, she whispered softly, "You carry too much alone, Lazy Jerk." He never heard her. ****** Morning arrived with the smell of freshly baked bread Nyra yawned as she rubbed sleep from her eyes. Kaizen looked unusually refreshed. She narrowed her eyes.

For all, you know, he could hypnotize you right now to obeying his or this so called King's every command. How dreadful. Not that your life isn't anymore. Who'd have thought that one minute, you're arguing about how exhausted you are, and the next, you're being sold to a certain someone in a land that's supposed to exist only in fantasy books? Scrunching together what you've observed and gathered so far; You're in a world full of vampires that use humans as a walking blood bag. You're taking all this in quite nicely if you do say so yourself. "She's all yours." The voice behind you says in a grumble before their footsteps slowly start to fade into the invisible black hole floating in the air

I growl to hurry him along, and he squeaks out in fear at the noise. "S-s-she w-wouldn't come," he whimpers, and Hilda steps into his personal space. "And why wouldn't she come," Hilda growls, and the King meets my sister's eye with a smirk. "She knew I wouldn't have what she wanted. She knew her prize would be elsewhere," he states while shooting me a small and timid smirk. My blood runs cold instantly. Hilda growls loudly as she plunges her two daggers into each of the King's ears, piercing his brain and killing him immediately.