All Quiet On The Western Front Novels & Stories

Del asked with a little laughter. “Yes, Del Young my subject my paper” Mr. Winter replied. “And stop that attitude it will get you in trouble since you’ve passed.” Del was rebel and every teacher knew this. He liked messing with people including his best friend Sorrow. I even wondered how they even managed to stay friends for so long. “It’s your choice leave and don’t write your trails or stay and write your trails” Mr. Winter finally concluded. ~ ~ ~ ~ We gathered around Mr. Winter who was explaining the First World War while we jotted down some of the important points or should I say I jotted down the short and easy sentences he said. We were five, Me, Rosa, Mark, Wane and Sorrow.

She twisted the ring on her finger. Making sure the decision she took was the right one. The quiet midnight was a welcome relief after a long day. This world outside the window was still and the only sound was the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. The moon was full, casting a glow over everything and the stars twinkled in the sky.

Lyra smiles upon seeing the frontal attack, as she knew they wouldn't have any advantage over them. It was a situation they had well handled as long as they maintained their defensive position. Thus, upon seeing the henchmen rapidly approaching, the five warriors took their combat positions and remained alert, not intending to move. They were passive but attentive, and they felt angry at the threat they had been presented with. Everything seemed very clear, the henchmen were coming quickly towards them, so they just had to maintain their position to confront them.

he weakly uttered as he sniffled softly. Kelvin pulled the birthday boy into a hug. "You're welcome. You're happy, right?" Kinsley nodded vigorously in response. "Good." The older boy chuckled. From a distance, by one of the windows of the school building, someone is gritting his teeth. "Tsk. He's too happy and crying over an effing phone,” he muttered. * * * "The great deaf is here!" One young werewolf announced as Kinsley entered a large room for the monthly meeting of the aspiring hunters, trackers, and warriors, even healers of the pack. The pack members in this group are ages twelve to seventeen, who will soon be given their rank.

*Continuing the ultra-detailed, slow-burn style. This chapter details the first contact with the Hollow Men, the horror of fighting an enemy that doesn't bleed, and the tactical nightmare of waging war in a vacuum. HELEN’S P.O.V. War usually has a sound. It is a cacophony of shouting men, cracking gunfire, and the wet thud of violence. But this war began in silence. We hit the ground in the clearing of the Old Estate—the place where the Pack House

When I regained consciousness, I saw my mother crying. Once she noticed that I was awake, she quickly wiped her tears away, held my hand, and asked worriedly, “How do you feel, Luna?” I did not cry when I learned that Winnie was pregnant with Jake’s baby, nor did I cry when I felt the life within me slowly fade away as I lay on the cold operating table, but when I saw the sympathy on my mother’s face, I could no longer hold my grief back. I bawled.

The entire pack hall fell instantly silent. The doors burst open with a bang, and Nolan stormed in, the full weight of the Silverglade Pack’s leadership trailing nervously behind him. The moment he threw me a heartbeat's glance, Janine, who was still holding the knife aloft, was flung violently across the hall by an invisible force. She smashed through three support pillars and landed embedded deep in the far wall. Despite being Silverglade’s top warrior, Aiden had already collapsed into a trembling heap on the floor. Faelan, who was finally free, leapt up and ran to Nolan, sobbing as he threw himself into his father’s arms.

She panted, face red with exertion and eyes wide with fear. “Ronan, you have to come back,” the scout gasped out, “The Warren is under attack!”

My fingertips went cold for a second, but I felt no regret. Turning away, I walked over to the river's edge and let the ring drop from my fingers into the water. "Let the past sink to the bottom," I whispered. The river rippled once, then stilled, as if nothing had ever happened. The sun still shone brightly, and the breeze was gentle. All those past hurts that once took my breath away were just a tiny drop in the vastness of the world. I lifted my head and started walking toward the far-off horizon.

No struggle. No resistance. Just clean, precise kills. The battlefield fell silent. The crowd fell silent. So quiet— That even the drop of a pin would have been heard. No one spoke for a moment. No one moved. Then finally, a voice broke through the silence. "who… is that warrior?"