Carl Grimes Novels & Stories

“We kill her!” “What?!” He struggled to get off Carl's tight grip on his neck and when he did, ran across the room and breathed loudly. On his neck were some deep swollen scars of Carl's fingers, ones that were as visible as hell! “You fear too much, Alexander! I am not the kind of person that kills someone so helpful to me. You are my most trusted sidekick apart from Grimes, you are next!” He bit out a cold chortle followed by a scoff.

“Thank you. It’s been a while Claude. Last time I saw you, you were barely at my waist.” Grasping the Alpha’s arm, I looked over him. He was a couple years older than Liam and while he wasn’t as nearly as tall as I was, he still held a powerful presence. Over years, he had grown a lot and I had to admit that he looked far more like his mother than his father. Looking at the door, Chris stepped in, whistling. “When your Beta said you were out in the middle of the fucking forest, I thought he was joking.” Chris walked in, holding a case of beer and a bag of food.

Whatever that thing was, but how were they connected? My visions of Grisha were painful, they were draining, and they were chilling. But my vision of the burning bird was calm, peaceful, and utterly soul-fetching. But why did it scream Grisha? Because I heard it, I heard it loud and clear and I knew it screamed Grisha! What in the hell was Grisha and what did it have to do with the burning bird? For an umpteenth time ever since I set my foot in Varagrafena, I laid awake at night, filled with nothing but questions, and more confusion!

I shook my hand like it would make the cow manure disappear. “Is he gone?” “Who’s there?” I asked, turning around just in time to see Bridie, Carl, and Shirley walking around the corner of a tent. “Oh, yeah, he is gone.” “Not surprising,” Shirley smirked as they stepped up to me. Carl had my rucksack slung over his shoulder as he puffed away on a cigarette. “Why’s that?” I questioned; I was missing something, that was for sure. “He hates the scent of shit. He thinks it’s beneath him.” Carl flicked his cigarette bud on the grass before grinding it into the ground with the heel of his boot. “There is a reason we don’t have animals...well, besides the fact most have an animal of their own.”

Papasukin na sana nila ang bahaging iyon nang biglang may tumutok nang baril sa kanila. "Do you think I'll let you get through that easily?" Wika nang tinig sa kanilang likuran nang lingunin nila ito nakita nila ang isang matabang lalaki na nakangisi. "I told you Miss Grymes, hindi pa tayo tapos." "Jacinto Javier, hindi ba't sinabi ko din sa iyo na huwag kang gagawa nag hindi ko magugustuhan, but you blew up my boyfriend's car.

The creature's body was slime-like, yet it seemed to have short limbs and a small mouth that produces a harsh hissing sound when it opens. "Don't call them junk," the elderly professor replied. Struggling to stand up from sitting on his chair, he gently placed the book he's reading on his desk, which was also filled with empty laboratory flasks, notebooks and pens. There was a stain of spilled ink covering the upper corner of his disorganized table. His hair and beard are almost white, with visible streaks of gray, and along with his crumpled and stained lab coat, they all seemed to have been unattended for a long while now.

Carl’s eyes land on me, and despite everything, he smirks, sending a shiver down my spine. “Should have known you’d pay them with sex to fix your situation,” Carl sneers. “Here I was thinking you guys had standards, but if you’re willing to fuck that, you clearly don’t, it's worse than a dog.” His words are venomous, dripping with contempt.

To the outside world, he wasn’t a genius doctor, just a lackey who did shady things for money. Night Blade had his men follow Carl with the intention of picking him up once Emile returned to Chris’s side; his farce wasn’t anything special or complicated that it would escape Chris’s eagle eyes but with Emile in the picture, his IQ and EQ were destined to get a hit, granting Carl the luxury of dreaming for a few more days.

The city passed before my fresh eyes as we drove deeper into Nicholas de Sanctis's modest neighborhood, and then I looked up at the familiar house I'd visited once. Carl's car pulled into the garage, drove back, and parked next to Nicholas' car. The separate garage door lifted, and two vehicles sat inside, one with the hood open. Both cars were black, like Nicholas's soul. I knew nothing about cars-who could blame me? I'd never even been taught to drive-but I realized these were classics. One of them was a Gran Torino. I only know that because I saw a Gran Torino not too long ago. Carl was crying, even though he would never admit it. And since seeing a man cry is the saddest thing in the wor

I screamed through the glass at him. Despite the toughened glass, Carlisle heard me. He dropped his handgun and swiftly shifted into wolf form. He was roughly the same size as Junior, so I was sure Junior wasn't an Alpha, just like his father. I was thinking that Carlisle had a chance to win this fight as long as Kree didn't interfere.