Burned Out Book Novels & Stories

Connor said hesitantly, "I just got an email. Someone claims to have a lead about the fire three years ago. They want us to go to the site." "Let's go." Samantha didn't hesitate. "Alright," he nodded. "I'll have the driver get the car." He took her hand, holding it tightly. Her fingers were ice-cold today. His palms were warm, yet no matter how tightly he held her, they never warmed up. The site of the fire had long since become a ruin—an abandoned building, still bearing the blackened marks of smoke on its walls. Inside, it was choked with dust.

I thought as my head turned to a small window in the room. I saw smoke. I ran towards it, and there I saw the book being burned in a small fire. I quickly ran outside, but it was too late when I got there. Fire consumed the entire book. Madison had burned the book. I cried. How will I ever learn about my pack and my mom anymore?

James said slowly. "Are you supporting them?" Peter Okeke asked. "No I am not." "You must know that burning a human is setting them on fire and fire is not friendly when it comes in contact with a human skin." James took the book, flipped through the pages then he gave the book to Paul Okeke. "Read that story." Paul Okeke collected the book from James hands. The title was written in bold letters like the previous story he read. It was titled: A GRUESOME DEATH. He swallowed and started reading loudly.

Although I had no hope it would say anything I didn't already know, I flipped through the pages nevertheless. It took all but a few minutes to realize, I had been right. The book had nothing to offer. My search was still far from over, frustrated, I sighed flipping quickly through the pages. “You look like you’re about to rip that book in half.” I turned to see Zara leaning against a shelf, her arms crossed and a knowing smirk on her face. I hadn't heard her coming. “I just might,” I muttered, closing the book with a thud. “It’s a useless book, filled with lies and propaganda. Burning it would do it more justice.” letting my anger flow.

Magic tightening like a net. He began to speak, chanting in an old tongue. But before the incantation could finish, the book burned. Flame shot up from the name — not wild, but deliberate. Purposeful. It didn’t destroy the page. It sealed it. The gold letters glowed red-hot before cooling into black glass. The Archivist stepped back, eyes wide. “The book has accepted her.” The woman Councilor snarled. “Then we’ll erase the page.” I stepped forward.

This time, I was ready for the pain that I didn’t even blink when it started burning. It felt like the times when my father made me hold hot coals so I could grow resistance to them. He was a sick and depraved bastard. The book feels old. The pages are crusty and seconds from falling apart. I bet they only have one more read left in them. And I’ll be glad to offer it.

The warmth from the fire didn't really ease the uneasy feeling growing inside me. Taking a deep breath, I opened the book. Each page turn felt like stepping back into a past I wanted to forget. The flames continued to dance, casting a flickering light that seemed to play along with the emotions swirling within me. I turned another page, the words becoming guides through a landscape of recovery I wasn't sure I was ready to navigate. Memories, like shadows, crept in as the fire crackled. Each sentence seemed to awaken echoes of my own experiences. It was as if the library held its breath, waiting for me to absorb the weight of those stories and somehow find my own path within them.

Division 24 The man looked confused. "The deaths? It has been peaceful in this area." Beatrice frowned. "How so." She mumbled to see a figure leave the church through the other door close to a burner. "Ha! Something is burning." She said, and the father turned to have his eyes widened. They both walked to the pulpit of the church and behold a book was on the burner while the fiery fire burned. Father Jude had gone to bring water to quench the fire and when the fire that had been burning was quenched, Beatrice squinted her eyes to see that three of the books in the burner had burnt to ashes but one had not burned..not a single scratch on its body.

The paper curled the moment it kissed the flame. Scarlet didn’t hesitate. She pressed the notebook harder into the candlelight, watching as the edges blackened, the ink blistering and fading into nothing. The words she’d bled onto those pages...plans, filth, fear, secrets...warped and vanished in a hiss. Ronan was still struggling with his shirt, fabric caught over his head like a damn blindfold. She tossed the burning book into the fireplace. And screamed.