Behind The Green Curtain Novels & Stories

… I woke up the next morning to find Jerry beside me in bed, watching the morning news. "Why'd you change your phone password?" he asked. It used to be his birthday, but since we were ending things, I went ahead and changed it. "I just felt like it." "Molly, didn't you keep begging to see the circus? Well, a troupe from the south is performing today." Since Alpha had given the order, I didn't have a choice but to go. We ended up in the VIP section, with Jerry and me leaning against each other, sharing snacks and watching the show. It was the kind of romantic moment I'd always imagined.

Ezra Slain Velleoti is a man that everyone wants to avoid. He's a tough enemy. A mafia boss who disapproves of almost everyone. Anyone who gets in his way will never make it out alive. Khione Louelita Silay is a woman who is socially awkward. A person who has socially anxiety and dislikes crowds and other people's opinions. She is a nerd who prefers to work and stay at home. Working as a top counterintelligence agent for the NBI, Khione was unintentionally able to uncover the dark secrets of some government officials. Khione desperately wanted to flee, but she couldn't until they killed her, and Ezra, the notorious Mafia boss, was the only one who save her.

“I said welcome to the Northern Territory! Hey, that's the code!" Phillip squinted at the vine, finding out whom Wiggy was talking to. Due to the dominating darkness, he caught only one figure that was surging and immediately spun something like a pulley several times. As soon as the pulley was turned, green tendrils opened wide like curtains, a light made of glowing mushrooms of various colors filled the whole place.

Not really. I should have been back at the dorm packing the last of my things. Ronan had asked if I wanted a hand, but I shook my head and told him I’d see him at the stables. We’d be going old-world, by enchanted carriage and spell-forged wheels, with a whole cloak-and-ward party to keep our entourage obscured. Nora didn’t do anything by halves. But first, I needed to say goodbye. The greenhouse stood before me, great and curved, its glass panes streaked with dew and the first faint touches of frost. I slipped inside and shut the door behind me with a quiet thud. It was warm, humid, throbbing with life.

The morning after the Icarus Protocol did not smell of ozone and burnt metal. It smelled of jasmine and damp earth. The "Green-Ghost" forest had fully reclaimed Sector 3, its vines weaving through the shattered windows of the Spire and turning the grand lobby into a cathedral of emerald light. The people of the Gutter were no longer huddled in the shadows; they were walking through the new woods, their hands stained with the juice of the golden fruit, their eyes bright with a terrifying, fragile hope.

Wordless, I nodded, curiosity piqued, a silent acceptance of his quiet invitation. He took my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine, a comfortable, familiar fit. He led me deeper into the sprawling greenhouse, past rows of exotic flora and bubbling hydroponic systems, until we reached the furthest back corner, hidden behind a thick curtain of tangled vines and overflowing potted plants. There, nestled amidst the lush overgrowth, barely visible, was a small, weathered wooden bench, surrounded by a cluster of night-blooming flowers, their delicate petals still unfurling in the filtered light, their perfume already beginning to permeate the air.

The man nods his head and opens the curtain to admit them in. “Let’s go see what that is,” Bree says with an excited quiver. I roll my eyes and follow behind Bree. As we come closer, the man moves his eyes, appraises us, and quirks a brow. “What may I do for you, ladies?” He asks with a soft melodic voice. Bree nudges her chin towards the man sending me a silent signal. Typical of Bree, she waits for me to say something. Leave it to Bree to make me do all the work. I give her my hardest glare and turn back to the man before I say in my most flirtatious voice. “What’s behind the curtain, handsome?” His mouth tilts up slightly. “I don’t think a lady of your sensibilities would appreciate what’

That told her all she needed to know—he’d heard the voices too. Without a word, she gave him a signal, and they slipped out of their seats, moving toward the alcove like a couple of thieves on a job. They ducked behind the heavy velvet curtain across from where the voices were coming, pretending to be locked in some passionate clinch. It was just for show, but felt not at all disagreeable. The curtain was seriously dusty, and it made Leila's eyes itchy. She probably smeared her mascara evenly on her cheeks, but she couldn't care less: the real action was happening behind the curtain opposite.

He finally said. “What story?” I asked. I was beginning to be uncomfortable. “Why did you cancel, Harvard? The school of geniuses!” Before I could answer he held his hand in the air gesturing me to wait. “Wait a minute.” He then pressed the intercom and after one beep, “Hello? Glenda, I need you to cancel all of the applicants for today, something urgent came up.” And then he ended the line. He looked at me and wink. I am completely puzzled. “Why do you need to know?”

I didn’t know any of the girls but I couldn’t wish that for any of them. Moments later I heard the host announce me. “Coming up next, Omega 36! Green eyes, blonde hair, curvy figure. A real catch! This one even comes with a bonus. She has a child.” The curtain in front of me was pulled open and holding Jessy tightly in my arms, I moved out into the stage. The bright light casted upon me blinded me for a minute and I had to blink rapidly to adjust to it. Finally after several seconds I’m finally able to open my eyes again and observe the space. We were in a large room filled with many men sitting downstage. The men all had hunger and lust shining in their eyes and panic seized my throat.