Chronicles Of The Dead Novels & Stories

Guevarra’s liposuction. “Welcome back, Ginger,” Dr. Guevarra said with a smile on her face. “Are you ready to remove your bandage and see the result of your new appearance?” “Finally! I get to see the new me literally,” Ginger said. “And Ginger had already died three months ago. It’s Lucy Solace now.” “Well, that’s a nice name, Lucy,” Dr Guevarra said while gently removing Ginger’s bandage, and once removed, she handed over a mirror to Ginger.

A ghost from my past. A ghost that never died. Just vanished into thin air. Marcus. He’s carrying a tray of drinks with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up. He looks every bit the successful man he’s become. Every bit delectable. Every bit the man I should be mad at and not salivating over. However, the memories of his betrayal stings again. An ache I haven’t felt in twelve months. Our eyes lock across the sand and my breath hitches in my throat. He freezes as well for a second, blinking hard.

Mira chipped in. “It's about what's going on. She doesn't have a scent, what is she?” “What are you guys talking about?” I placed my hands over my head to ease the ache I was feeling but it didn't help. Anytime I looked at them, I could see the wolves from the previous night. It was like my instinct was telling me who they were in image flashes. “Are you okay?” Orion helped me sit back on a tree. “Regular folks have a scent and so does someone that shares our curse. It's unique, different,” Tristan explained with a cold look.

They were there because of the story Everett had spread. Every one of them had watched Stellan's coffin being carried out for burial. Every one of them knew that he had died on the battlefield. Now, a 'dead man' had just climbed out of his own coffin, and the murmuring was growing louder by the second. "Who is that? Isn't the general supposed to be dead?" "That's what I'm saying. It's already been seven days since he died. Where did this man come from?" "He's probably a fraud, right? Trying to pass himself off as the general for money?"

Betty said, each word broken glass in her mouth. “I know what you’re going through,” the old woman said. Her eyes held no shimmer or life, they were like dead stars overlooking a cracked, dry desert. “They put my Edward in there, pumped him full of chemicals and kept his body moving long after he was dead. It’s sacrilegious is what it is, not to mention dangerous. Keeping these demons around puts us all at risk.” “Demons?” “Our children die, and then demons crawl up in their bodies and wear them like a suit.”

She started planning for Elena's third death anniversary. Katie viewed the third death anniversary with great importance. It signified a closure point of the grieving process, and it was a significant occasion for the older generations. It was two weeks to Elena's third death anniversary. Ariel still had time to prepare.

But even as I'm nervous as hell about the interview, I cannot stop my thoughts to sway and again I'm thinking about that dawn when I laid my eyes on a creature more beautiful than poetry ever describe. ~~~~~~~~ Rick POV Light shone brightly. It was warm, but still, blinding. It wasn't ordinary light, it has a purple hue around it. Like a pupil. Like a purple-hued pupil... Slowly, the light descended, and thick darkness was felt all around. But I only could see those eyes. Those eyes blamed me. Questioned me. Destroyed me. I saw the accusation like it was yesterday. My surrounding was outlined in front of me, bit by bit. Like I have pulled back to that time again. Where I lost everything.

They cleaned it off and placed it on the table. “Mellony, this hourglass is the same hourglass I had earlier. It even has the same markings.” “That's impossible.” “Why?” “Because my grandfather died over a hundred years ago. Even then he didn't use it. So, it can't be the same witching glass you had. It's not even enchanted.” “Please believe me. This is the same one.” Melony didn't want to argue about it anymore. She looked toward the front window. Something was on her mind.

The pack of wolves stared at the mystical happening before them. It was the first time their eyes had ever beheld something so strange and out of this world. Bringing the dead back to life was dark magic—no one dared practice it—but right before them, the dead wolves of Lakes were coming back to life. They all watched in horror, listening to the sound of bones cracking as the bodies took on their wolf's form.

Though the thoughts about him were forefront now, because I still hadn't come to terms with what almost happened, I had to stop thinking about it now. Maybe later I would take my time to understand it. Maybe. I opened the book slowly, my fingers tracing the frayed and worn edges of the cover, "the chronicle of the six" it stood boldly in gold lettering glaring at me. The letters shimmered faintly and I quickly turned open the first page. "This is the Chronicle of the Six. The first beings born of the moon's light. This record holds their power, their dominion... and the truth before the Great Divide."