Books Similar To No Longer Human の小説・ストーリー

Quiet murmurs of conversation filled the room. "If that's your goal, then I'm sorry to disappoint you. George is just my ex-husband now. A familiar stranger, nothing more." "Cora, why would you think that? I just wanted to improve our relationship..." Before Kimberly could finish, she started sobbing softly. Cora found Kimberly's crying act rather amusing and actually laughed out loud. Everyone looked at them in confusion, one crying and one laughing. They all rushed to comfort the crying Kimberly, ignoring Cora. Looking at these familiar classmates, Cora felt a strange distance. Were they really so easily manipulated? Without bothering to explain, she got up and left.

Sarah's POV That weekend, I returned to my old apartment to pack for the move to my new home with Daniel. To my surprise, everything was exactly as I'd left it, even the potted plants on the balcony were still alive. I packed the essentials for the moving company to take, leaving only the cabinet full of designer heels. With a sigh, I sold them all to a secondhand dealer. As I watched the truck drive away, I was about to leave when I heard someone call my name.

Just when I thought everything was finally turning around, an unknown number called. "Vivian, what the fuck are you playing at?" Enzo's voice. Furious, out of control, and drunk. "You ditch the family's business to run off to the West Coast? You think you can just run away from your problems?" My hand trembled, but my voice remained steady. "You have the wrong number." "Don't play dumb with me, Vivian," he sneered. "I know it's you. Do you have any idea what a mess these books are without you?"

His body was that of a falcons but he still had his human head. He lifted his left wing and saw the action being mirrored by his shadow. He had turned into a hybrid of some sort. He no longer saw the screen of his life playing nor did he hear the voices of sorrow. He took a step and felt a cold piece of metal around his right claw. It was the book. Somehow he knew.

Brothers C H A P T E R 8 R H Y K E R "I'm fucking bored!" Roman groaned in annoyance as I read the last chapter of my book, it's about the human brain and its behaviours. This book describes a lot about experiments on human beings, treating them as if they were guinea pigs. "Dude, what the fuck are you reading?" Roman asked me like someone who is always annoying, and I sighed deeply, throwing the book away at the wall, making him jump out of fright.

With no visitors, he wasted away in misery. I heard Randall had his leg broken in a fight inside and became crippled. I heard that the woman who raised me lost her mind and wandered the streets picking through trash, shouting that she was a lady of status. I heard Lilith caught multiple diseases and died alone in a rental apartment. Her body wasn't found until it had already decomposed. When those stories reached me, I was preparing for my wedding. Mason gave me a grand ceremony. There was no media, no spectacle. Just real friends and sincere blessings.

Lucian planned to take him back north for treatment, where the facilities were better and his chances of waking up would be higher. It might be the last time I would ever see Kieran. I handed the journal back to Lucian with steady hands. "Elder Lucian, if he ever wakes up, please give him a message for me. Tell him that everything from the past ends here. From now on, we're like two parallel lines that will never cross, and we will never meet again." Without another glance at Lucian or the unconscious Kieran on the gurney, I turned and walked firmly in the opposite direction. I was ready to start my new life.

To the north— The gray angular smudge of Ravenshade territory sat cold and diminished, a memory of a life I had worn like ill-fitting skin. I saw them sometimes at the edges of my vision. Shawn, walking the marginal lands with the careful gait of a man who had learned to fear open spaces. Kurt, growing into the armor I had forged, polishing it with his own hands. Lydia, blooming into a young woman who wrote me letters asking when she might learn to heal as I healed.

Not a perfect story. A human one.

It felt as if he was frustrated and annoyed, but he was controlling himself. “Listen,” he began, after exhaling deeply like a frustrated snake. “Let me tell you something, there are some things in this world, these things belong to neither werewolves nor humans,” he said, his eyes still and his expression as calm and composed as ever. I looked at him, my mind solemn and my brain attentive, I was focused as hell. “Now, these things I’m talking about, they’re older than systems, older than law, older than even the history of conflict and war itself.”