Carl Grimes Novels & Stories

Smith even thought their boss had been possessed—such terrifying, mysterious Eastern power! Carl stood up from the executive chair, dressed in black trousers and a black shirt with the collar slightly undone. From across the screen, his aloof and handsome features looked even more striking: "Go ahead."

Carl stood there long after she left, chest rising and falling as he stared at the empty space she left behind. And for the first time since he stepped foot on campus, Carl Grayson felt himself slipping. Emmy Magnus wasn’t just temptation. She was becoming something dangerous.

"Carl has Annie. Don't joke about outsiders - she's not part of the Grey family." Carl stared at his tea leaves, hiding his fury beneath a calm voice: "Time is precious. Don't waste it discussing irrelevant people."

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.

It was the first time in four years that Carl looked slightly bothered. Carl was a proud man, and he cared about the opinion of others the most and how he dressed up. He was particular with his emotions and how he reacted in every situation. Among Hiram’s friends, he was the calmest one except for that day four years ago, when he brought a drowned man’s body. ‘The fear in his eyes was obvious and the restlessness when that young man was on my table. And just like four years ago, Carl’s eyes had the same vibe.’

Good Carl, you take this beating and you like it. Huffing I wrapped my hands around Carl's neck and began to twist and twist until finally with a ripping pop Carl's head came off completely allowing fuzz to go flying. Seeing red I wasn't satisfied by this end and turned to the dummy beside Carl. With a growl I lunged towards it extending my claws so that I could swipe them against the dummy's emotionless face again and again ripping it to tiny little shreds until all that remained was flying stuffing and pieces of fabric.

she explained. The woman nodded. “I see. Who is your cousin, and what would you have to do if you had lost?” Nate growled, and I smirked. “He didn’t know I was his cousin, so he asked for a date. I made the tattoo the term for my winning because he insulted my friend who appears human. The loser in question is Matty Graycort.” “Wait, Matty Graycort who is a senior at Gayl U, and president of PLP?” she asked.

He places his hand on his shoulder and smiles unwilling to let him go. "Grandpa, I really need your help." Blake hangs his head, his eyes threatening to perk with tears. "What's going on Blake?" Blake's grandpa frowns, his voice going from a cheerful tone to a more melancholic tone. "Grandpa, those archives you told me to look over, you were right. You were right about all of them. There's a vampire by the name of Damian who is seeking revenge on our pack. But that's not the only thing I fear." He sits with his grandfather inside at the table.

An inexplicable sense of foreboding enveloped him. Approaching the building, he spotted a familiar figure standing at the entrance. "Mr. Cyrus," Carl greeted. His towering figure was clad in a black suit, and his expression was unreadable behind dark sunglasses. Even when standing still, his powerful frame radiated an air of preparedness. Though there were many within the Azure Clan, Cyrus recognized Carl immediately. As the former head of the Finch family, he knew well who Carl was—a man known for his efficiency, combat skills, discretion, and loyalty. Carl possessed many qualities Cyrus valued in a person.

What I miss is my peace and nobody's dick. But he doesn't care for peace of mind as he picks me off the swing and carries me to a slab of concrete, wide enough for me to lie down with my upper body. "Don't you think you owe me two for saving you back there?" He tears my underwear with that and smiles at me. I used to think he was good-looking until now. Carl is just plain ass creepy, so I close my eyes to push the image of his face away from mine until he kisses me breathless