Carl From Walking Dead Hat Novels & Stories

“Good. I’ll tell the men to move.” I reach for my phone, fast, and dial. Drew’s voice slices through again. “What the fu—! Lance, wait. I think Carl's called some backup.” My head jerks up. “What?” “There’s a car in view. Not moving forward. Just… on standby.” “Shit.” I hiss. I grab the binoculars from him without asking, slam them against my face, scanning fast. Carl’s outside the warehouse now. He's already seen his men, dead. And… he's dialing someone.

So, Evarius knows where Carl lives, who he works with, and where he vanishes to take refuge. Maybe, some would say that it’s stupid to walk into your enemy's den all alone. But a couple of werewolves do not bother him. He can handle them. However, Carl also has a witch friend, and he can cause some issues. But again, if his information is correct, which it usually is, the witch shouldn’t be that big of a problem either. Not today, at least. When he had confronted Carl a few days ago, he had thought that he would get to the stone with the assistance of Tasha and her friends and not to try and move past them.

Beta Julius stepped into the room, bowing his head lightly. “How are you feeling today, Alpha?" He asked, nodding towards an unresponsive Meagan. "Light as a feather." Carl joked. The look on Julius face was distant. “Please stop playing around, Alpha." Carl rolled his eyes. Even in his weak state he had more guts than everyone around him. He wasn't dead yet, but they all moved about like it was his funeral. “You all should be the one to quit being so sad. It's weighing my wolf and I." Carl whined, wincing as a sharp pain shot through his sides.

I took a deep breath before enunciating my final decision about his fate, “Carl Alvarado is exiled from the Blood Moon pack.”

“Unlike you, though, I can be merciful. Just as long as you tell me what I want to know. Where might Carl go into hiding? What are his plans? Do you know anything about James’ plans?” She didn’t say anything, instead just glared at me as if she was trying to find out how much truth was in my threats. I narrowed my eyes at her and in the deadliest of tones that I could muster, I said, “Don’t test me, Lena. I have more reasons to see you bathed in silver than I have to be kind.” “Carl wanted to be king,” she said after a while. “He wanted to replace the lycan king while James became the rogue king.”

He really needed to take better care of his cars. “Where is she? I know she’s here! You can’t fucking hide her!” Greg was nearly screaming. If heads weren’t turned already, they were now. “That whore can’t hide from me!” I coughed on my bite of pie, grabbing my orange juice as a chaser. Carl slammed the hood of another car down. He had rolled up his sleeves to his shoulders, showing off the elite warrior tattoos our pack got when we were initiated. He was holding the largest socket wrench in the shop. It looked normal in his hands, and it made me look like a child when I held it. His eyes had to be flickering. His wolf wouldn’t take that kind of disrespect from a non-Beta wolf.

Carl said I hummed faintly, offering a polite nod, instead of using words. But he didn't seem to bother about how I responded to him, instead he continued talking “I heard that you're a good fighter” he continued “Heard you fought several wars for this Pack, which made you the Alpha, although you're not from this Pack” I chuckled and remained unfazed “It wasn't by War alone” I said coldly Carl chuckled “It only by that, I would love to see what you got, what made Alpha Austin, blindly made a stranger an Alpha” Carl comically said

“Our phase three is almost finished and we did not need to do anything, Alexander!” Carl chuckled but this around was more evident than before. He stood up from his throne like the king he was and proceeded to walk across the room. In the middle of the room, he halted in his steps and smiled. “Look damn what we've got here, Calven is slowly getting back to who originally is, the fucking monster he was!” Carl muffled up throwing his gaze upon the flaming ablaze. He grinned maliciously as he continued to walk across the room. He stopped at the exit of the room and leaned on the door.

He simpered and closes the ref. "I'm just worried about her, she doesn't have enough time working in her masters and she still manages to--" "Ahoy! Ahoy! My son Collin, where is the cookie chips I'm asking you to buy?" Carl entered the kitchen while still wearing his pyjama and that disheveled hair of his with hints of his white hairs. "Oh, yes, I got it here. Together with the cheese balls you love." Collin took out four bags of chips and gave it to Carl.

Pale as the moon, it continued to leak like a squashed bug; it smelled even worse. Carl stumbled forward, extending a shaking hand to touch a prison he’d only expected to escape in death. Lines and scars he’d known for a lifetime rested on its surface. Even the hairs remained. Between gray temples, the remains of Carl’s old face gaped at him broken-jawed—an eyeless, toothless mask. He backed away. Fuck. Oh, fuck me. What did she . . . Where is . . . ?