Carl From The Walking Dead Age Novels & Stories

Kara's POV My life right now is the exact illustration for back to square one. I remember how I had walked in here sometime ago and stood in the same hall with Carl showing himself off like the unattractive pig that he is. I can only hope my mind portal isn't opened and all my thoughts are out. Carl wouldn't hesitate to have my head chopped off to prove a point. I swallowed hard, holding up his gaze while trying hard to put on a smile. Carl had a devilish grin on his face. "What do we have here? How long has it been again? A year or two? You look better than the last time I saw you. Have you been feeding on blood?" He mocked.

I actually have the face of a 17 year old…. I have what u call a baby face… But my body says differently. Hehe imagine… I have the body of a 222 year old and the face of a 17 year old… I am fucking gorgeous. I did my hair and went outside to meet the pack members. “Sir u look ravishing” Carl said as he opened the door for me. I Looked at him smiling. We all got into the cars and then zoomed off. An hour later we finally got to the vampire's compound… I must say it actualy looks nice..

Carla asked, "how old are you? And you never had any other signs before a couple of days ago?" "Eighteen, or well....almost eighteen," John added. "I never really got seriously hurt or needed lights to see in the night. If you can consider them signs." Carla stared at him like he had grown two heads. "Mmm, okay, this needs a serious chat," she whispered almost to herself.

He was looking so dead and old. The old alpha was only a 700-year-old werewolf, and he should be looking so young and handsome like a 40-year-old human, but the sickness had eaten up everything wolfie in him. He had become a weak human, and his age caught up with him, causing his wrinkles and shrinking skin. If it's not that he still possessed his scent, Jacqueline could have vowed that a weak human was personifying his father. He turned his worried eyes to Carl, "Why are you still holding her dear? Wake her up and let her begin her treatment on my father." He snapped at his beta.

The smile on her face was so bright, and the side of her lips were twitching as she fought back the tears. Carl was unbelievably calm, as if he had done this before; he wasn’t s tensed neither was he nervous, his composure was great and his gaze was focused on the altar and the man who stood there waiting for them. Carl Adams was a handsome man, he was 5’9 and had dark curly hair, his eyes were grey. He looked like a simple responsible man with his suit, there was a grin on his face and it seemed like it was permanent.

As he waited, an unexpected call came through—it was his grandfather. “Yes, Grandpa?” “Where is Carl? I’ve been trying to contact him, but he’s out of reach,” the old man asked. “Carl is on a mission in S Country. He left two weeks ago,” Cane replied. “Come to the old mansion immediately. I need to tell you something regarding Carl,” the old man ordered. “Yes, Grandpa.” Just as Cane ended the call, the machine beeped—analysis complete. He turned to look at the monitor and froze.

Once, both died from the loss and the distance before the elders could intervene. It was a story I knew well, and most importantly, it was a story Karla knew as well. Which was why I was very surprised to find that she was telling me this. "Heartbroken? Aiden? What are you talking about?" "As you know, I recently turned 18." "Yes." "And that is the age most werewolves get their wolves and their mates." "Karla," I growled. "You know damn well that I know this. Get to the point, will you?"

He probably noticed the sudden silence and turns to me with his ever so charming smile. “He didn't seem so dangerous after all,” Michael adds. There's no way those words are a description of the Shawn I knew all my life. “That's impossible,” I whisper to myself but loud enough for him to hear. “How old is Carl?” he asks, dismissing my surprise, and closing the gap between us. “Ten months,” I reply but there's a more disturbing question bugging my mind. “Where is Shawn?” “oh…I forgot to mention. He left.” “Left?”

29 Year old Mia Mia got a clear look of Carl's face, His black hair longer,it partly covered his eyes, His eyes locked duller than when they were together, not a single warmth, He grew taller and more muscular, a slight stubble on his chin which looked like they were just shaved.....35 Year old Carl "Do you need to be punished for what you just did Mia?" He asks as his hand trailed up her thigh and Under her night gown, Mia didn't know why her body responded to his touch

She had a device folded in his hands, his ability to remember people in criminal investigations was simply rare, how could he not remember? Carl leaned in and chuckled deeply in her ear, "My fiancée is not easily fooled. I do have a cousin, who is only thirteen years old, so there shouldn't be any boyfriend that I don't know about." "Moreover, no one dared to come and bring me a drink," Carl's gaze swept past, his eyes dark and profound. "In the Jenkins family, this was almost asking for death." When Roger heard Carl say that he wanted to die, his hands trembled for a moment.