Novelas y relatos de Arthur And The Invisibles

Sarah's heart sank as she saw Brie, Clara's assistant, and several other familiar faces. "You see, I've been playing a little game with you," Arthur said, his voice dripping with malice. "And now, it's time for the final act." Sarah felt a surge of fear as Arthur's henchmen moved to surround them. Luke stood tall, his eyes fixed on Arthur. "You're not going to get away with this," Luke said, his voice firm. Arthur laughed. "Oh, I think I will," he said. "You see, I have insurance. And with this insurance, I'll be able to walk away scot-free."

My arm settles around Aurora’s shoulders on instinct, pulling her into my side protectively. Arthur’s eyes keep scanning the room, again and again, as if the intruder might materialize out of thin air if he stares hard enough. His jaw tightens every time his gaze lands on the open closet, the overturned drawers, the scattered clothes that still carry her scent. He turns to me. “You sensed something,” he says. Not a question. A confirmation. “Yes,” I answer, already piecing it together even as my wolf presses forward, irritated. “They don’t appear in the videos because they were already inside the room. They waited until the house was loud enough to hide movement.”

Cara’s hands covered her mouth as she stared at the lifeless body of Arthur. Adrian's eyes immediately became red when he saw Arthur’s body on the bed. He then walked over to it and tried to touch it but to his surprise, his hand went through the body. “Why can’t I touch him?” he growled as he slowly started shifting. “Because I’m not dead,” Arthur answered as he came out of the bathroom and he was holding an unconscious Amelia in his arms. Adrian immediately jumped back when Arthur, who was on the bed and Amelia , who was lying unconscious on the floor, disappeared.

With a deep breath, Lyra reached for the heavy brass door handle, her supernatural allies by her side. They had gathered from many realms and seen many battles, but tonight, they were united in purpose – to confront Arthur and reveal his true intentions. The door creaked open, revealing the grand entrance hall of Arthur's opulent mansion. The air was thick with anticipation as they stepped inside, each one ready to face whatever awaited them.

Arthur is still screaming, pushing everyone off of him. “You can’t keep me in here!” he shouts. “You can’t lock me in here like some sort of prisoner!” He lands on the ground upright, and just like that, he starts to lunge at Gammie. “NO!” Nancy yells and holds her hand out. Some kind of invisible force appears midair, throwing Arthur back. He collapses on the floor near the bed, unconscious. The whole room is silent. We’re all staring at Arthur as the nurses lift him from the floor and put him back on the bed, securing him with more restraints for when he wakes up. Duke Basset walks over to us, his eyes red with tears.

Even some of our so-called friends started acting weird, like they believed Vladimir’s lies. Then, one night, Arthur got an invitation to a big charity event. It was a fancy gala, and a lot of important people would be there. Arthur knew it was the perfect place for Vladimir to keep spreading his rumors. “We have to go,” Arthur said firmly. “If we don’t, it’ll look like we’re hiding something. We need to show everyone that we’re still strong, that we’re still together.” Even though the thought of facing all those people made me nervous, I knew Arthur was right. We couldn’t let Vladimir win. But deep down, I had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

Olivia Arthur’s words flip a switch in the people behind us. They charge at the guardians with deep howls, gripping the handle of their flashing swords. I stomp on the closest guardian's foot and elbow him in the face. He steps back enough for me to slip between him and the next guardian. This happens quickly, too quickly. So quickly that I don't realize what I'm doing until it has happened. A few feet away from me, Arthur is snapping his sword down on a guardian. He catches his unprotected shoulder and the man sinks to his knees with a growl. Arthur delivers the final blow and moves on to the next guardian.

As I approached the end of the hall, I peeked around the corner. Nothing appeared out of order. The door was still locked and closed, the TV was off and stayed mounted on the wall, and all the furniture still stood in place. Even Arthur remained on the couch, fast asleep. I was about to search the kitchen when the screaming started again from the living room. “No! Please, no!” I turned around to see Arthur thrashing against some invisible foe. His arms flailed; his legs kicked. His face scrunched, tears staining his cheeks.

They feel like information—useful, imperfect, alive. I hadn’t realized how heavy inevitability was until it left. — Arthur grows quieter. Not withdrawn. Not sad. Settled. He hums now when he works—soft, tuneless sounds that surprise him as much as they do me. He keeps tools in his pockets instead of weapons. His hands bear new marks: calluses in unfamiliar places, a shallow cut on his thumb from a chisel he insists betrayed him. “I trusted it,” he says mournfully. “You always trust dangerous things,” I reply.

I immediately grabbed the officiant's microphone and shouted, "This video's fake! Everyone, don't believe it! This is an AI-generated deepfake video! I trust Isaac, and he would never do anything to betray me! This is fake!" Then, I said to Isaac, "Call the police right now! Whoever did this needs to be arrested immediately!"