Book Mayhem Novels & Stories

There was something about the book like a magnet that didn't let me shift my gaze no matter how I tried. And I was going to touch it as she said, I was sure my curiosity would have the better part of me but as I slowly closed the distance between myself and the book, a loud yell called my attention and I quickly turned to Leemah who also looked shocked. "What was that?" I asked and she was as clueless as I was. Instead of replying to me, she stormed out of the study and I followed behind her. Outside the study room, we saw the pack members running helter-skelter for a place to hide and we didn't understand what was going on or the cause of the chaos until we saw it; the reason for the chaos.

Not a chance—not even me. I ran a hand through my damp hair, pushing it back with a calculated ease. The tempest within me simmered, silent and lethal. Justice will be delivered, no matter the cost. At any price.

Francesco My hands trembled as I placed them on The Black Book. This isn't going to be easy. But I have to do it. I sucked in a sharp breath and flipped open the cover. Deadly Sins. Wild Secrets. Mafia Rules. Do You Dare To Enter? A chill ran down my spine. What the hell does that mean? I swallowed hard and turned the first page. Nothing. A frown creased my forehead. I flipped to the next. Still nothing.

Once again, the divine beast clan ceases contact with the outside world to avoid the threats of the total extinction of the Four Divine Beast Clans. Such fate is cruel. "I guess... life sometimes is cruel," I murmured as I finished reading the book. I felt conflicted and emotional. I grabbed another book and found the title intriguing. "The Eye of the Truth," This is interesting. I began flipping the pages, and the more I read, the deeper my suspicion became. Doubts filled my mind, and something was off about the information written in this book. I suddenly felt dizzy and gripped the book hard. What happened?

His red eyes deepened, indicating his desire to sort things out. "One of the book of history has gone missing last night. The Book of Creation. And then this morning, it is found on its shelf again. Not a piece was taken nor changed," Merko said. I had been to their library a couple of times and had seen that book. However, due to my very busy schedule, I could not read it since I have to prioritize knowing more about potions. "It is not allowed to take the books out of the bibliotheca. How come that it has gone missing? Who was patroling last night?" Yamiko asked.

I thought of the world that was currently waking up to a silence it didn’t understand. But as I felt that tiny, second heartbeat pulse against my palm, I didn’t feel like a fugitive. I didn’t feel like a victim of a global conspiracy. I felt like an Architect. The first book was about the blood. It was about the betrayal and the breaking of the old world. It was about the trauma of the glass and the roar of the mountain. But the second book? The one we were starting right now, in this quiet French valley? That book was going to be about the Home.

She approached it cautiously, her heart pounding with anticipation. "This book... it feels important," she said, reaching out to touch it. The moment her fingers made contact with the cover, the symbols flared to life, casting a brilliant light throughout the room. Kai, Allan, Lila, and Seraphina gathered around Alex as she carefully opened the book. The pages were filled with intricate drawings and cryptic text, written in a language none of them recognized. As they studied the book, a sense of urgency washed over them, as if the knowledge contained within was both powerful and dangerous.

I tell him. Flavius nods in response and begins to pack his things. I fill my satchel with various clothing items and few books. "Why are you packing books?" Flavius asks curiously. "Since we are visiting another horde without sending a messenger ahead, I need to bring something that will serve as a gift. Those of the Horde of Fates are known knowledge seekers. I have many books in my private collection that have not been seen since The Fires. They should serve as a suitable present," I say.

plush. I knew this data inside and out. I had read it so often, so often tried to reduce it to something simple. It never worked. Look, Gracy, the funny dog. I called it plush because it looks so plush. I gritted my teeth tightly and hit it again. Over and over again. In doing so, I tried not to think about that cruel day fifteen years ago, but kept recalling the facts to myself. The size, the weight, the appearance. But the thoughts became blurred and suddenly I heard the screams of the children, saw my mother who stormed into the garden, only to be torn down by one of these beasts. I saw my father again, who was trying to split the skulls of these monsters with a spade. But he had dealt wi