Chronicles Of The Dead Novels & Stories

How to summon the dead. "The real Seris. The girl you murdered. I just summoned her." Calliope's red eyes widened. "You're lying." "I'm a Chimera." I tilted my head. "Have you forgotten? And as a Chimera, I can summon the dead. And Seris has been waiting ten years for this moment." Her face went white. "You think you have the time to stop Cassian from finding out the truth? Well, you're wrong." I laughed. "Look at your hands." She looked down. Her fingers were turning translucent.

The sight before Xiao Chen was grisly and gruesome. Dead bodies scattered everywhere around him, most of them belonging to the acolytes or students of the Corpse Refinery Sect who had been killed. Even so, their terrible deaths were eclipsed by the hideously and grotesquely mangled and maimed remains of the students and fighters of the Orthodox Path. This could only be the work of Corpse Puppets, Xiao Chen observed, That nothing is left remaining save for some bloody bits of flesh and viscera. Still, all the signs only indicated that the invasion of the Summit of Mystics had already begun for days.

I had four days left before the poison consumed my organs entirely. All I wanted was to spend whatever time I had left with the woman I loved, but I could not reach her. The next day, I learned that Enzo Marchetti, the first love she had never forgotten, had returned from overseas. "Let's get divorced. The love of my life is back." I clutched my chest as a searing pain tore through it. "I'm at the family hospital. I've been poisoned. The doctors won't let me leave.” Her voice turned sharp and cruel. "I don't care if you're poisoned or dying. Even if you drop dead the next second, you need to come back and sign the papers." The last trace of warmth inside me went cold. I answered calmly,

It feels like a permanent execution of his bloodline alliance, a raw wound festering deeper than any scar he received on the northern frontier. Jone reaches deeper into the chest, his silver eyes flashing as his large palm brushes against a thick, leather-bound volume settled beneath the scrolls. A small piece of parchment is affixed to the hide cover. "Read the chronicles of my beast," Jone reads aloud, his throat tight as he deciphers Michael's low, scratching script. "For my fated omega."

"You've fulfilled your end of the bargain. Now we fulfill ours." Triarch Vex produces a leather-bound tome from beneath his robes—ancient, the pages yellowed with age, the cover etched with symbols that hurt to look at directly. "This," he says, "is the Chronicle of the Deep. It contains everything we know about the Core Sea and those who've attempted to reach its depths. Most importantly, it contains the ritual words necessary to approach Arkenox without being unmade." Kael takes the book reverently. "How many have succeeded?"

However, come sunrise, she was struck by a heart attack and died right then and there. My husband Chester and I, devastated by the loss, handled her funeral. That same night, Chester dreamt of Dad too. "Chester, it's been ages since I've had a bite to eat. I'm longing for your liver pâté and a shot of strong whiskey." He woke up, bought the best liver pâté he could find, popped open a bottle of single-malt whisky, and dashed to the graveyard. However, shortly after he got back, he was rushed to the ICU with liver failure and died three days later.

The threads of the twilight Dark became tighter. The next moment, he sent a Call along these black magic veins. Just one short burst of energy. Just one pulse beat. None of the living beings understood what had happened. No one saw the eyes of four thousand dead buried in steel coffins flash blood-red. And the eyes of thousands more buried without any precautions. A thick layer of earth and soft grass muffled their loud howl tearing the Dark. Then, the dead became quiet again, and the crimson light went out, as if it had never been.

I asked cautiously. "Disappeared somewhere. We captured this chalice during the battle three years ago." "Then what is the function of the other chalice?" I continued to dig for answers from Chaz. He looked surprised for a moment. "You're so curious, aren't you? "Chaz raised one eyebrow. "Of course we're curious. Why don't you ever know about those chalices? Even though we are also Hunters. Chaz took a deep breath. "The second chalice has a main carving in the shape of a woman. Anyone who drinks blood from that chalice will return to youth even if they are hundreds of years old. Then..."

There was a loud roar from the earth until dead corpses emerged out. "She summoned the dead?" Ayla questions with a voice of startlement. I too was stunned by the sight of the rotten fleshes surfacing out of the earth. Their eyes were glowing an odd blue, teeth strangely sharp as they snarled and snapped their jaws. "What the bloody fuck?" Ares mind-links, utterly confused at what he was witnessing. I was about to answer him when the snarling dead came barreling towards us. With the darkened sky, the only visible thing we could really see were their glowing eyes and snarling teeth.

When it spoke, its voice carried the weight of eons. "Selene of the Eclipse Covenant," it announced formally. "I am Chronicle, Keeper of Supernatural Records. We have come to evaluate what you have created here." "Evaluate for what purpose?" I asked, stepping forward to meet them at the base of the temple steps. "To determine whether your confederation represents evolution or dangerous deviation from established supernatural law." Chronicle's crystalline features shifted to reflect moments from what I recognized as Eclipse Covenant history some showing cooperation and healing, others revealing the forced unity that had led to their destruction.