Crimson Connect Novels & Stories

I guess we may get on better terms once we get to know each other…of course as friends. My eyeballs almost pop out of my sockets as soon as I open my whatsup account. The dead students’ OT department group which has been dead for almost 6 months, suddenly comes to life. There are more than 500 messages, begging me to open the group and check the chats. And I give in to the temptation.

"Go on." The boys removed their masks one by one. "No way," "Boss?" "Adrian?" "Babe?" Zoe waved her hands in the air. "Wait a damn minute. So, let me get this straight, Chris, Jack, and Poet Wilder are Crimson Clan." "You can't forget about Apollo River, the Mafia King." Chris joked. "Oh no, we can't forget that." "And let me get this straight, Zoe Autumn, our Lead consultant. Sandra Pearl, our Corporate Broker. Nina Elizabeth, and Alicia Sun, our Ethical Hackers, are members of the most desired Ruby Tears."

A recognition that lived below thought. The woman's eyes opened fully. Crimson. Not human. Deep glowing red lit from somewhere inside, burning steady and old and alive. Tyra stepped back. "Who are you." "You already know," the woman said. Her voice was warm and cracked at the edges like something that had been through fire and come out the other side. She moved forward, each step soundless on the black soil. Her crimson eyes moved over Tyra's face with a desperation that was almost physical. Like someone who had been kept from something for so long that seeing it again hurt. "You have always known."

I looked like a dwarf beside him although I am taller than other girls, as I am five feet seven inches. “I am asking what your name is…” he said in his cold tone and I felt stupid in front of him. I thought he was staring at me but he was just waiting for my answer about my name. I breathed out heavily. My rating for delivery will go down from one to zero because he doesn't seem happy with my delivery service. Oh, shit*! “My name is… my name is... Crimson.” There! I gave him my name! I don’t like my name at all. How I wish that the orphanage named me Red or Scarlet and it was much better than Crimson.

I got into the office ready to throw a tantrum if an apology was what they called to offer to me, the grey haired white doctor greeted me and stretched his hands towards the chair at his front, indicating I should have my sit. “ What’s wrong with her?” I asked immediately I took my sit, the doctor took up a chart and starred at it for a minute leaving me in an even greater suspense. He finally spoke up saying that Crimson was suffering from malnutrition and it affected blood pressure and contributed to her high body temperature. She was finally discharged after some few tests were conducted and I took her home after searching for my car keys for another hour. Crimson said nothing as we drove

"Crimson University offered me a scholarship." His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Seriously? That's huge. Crimson has an incredible program." "You know about them?" I ask, genuinely curious. "I play for State. We scrimmage against Crimson sometimes," he says, extending a gloved hand. "I'm Connor, by the way." "Penelope," I say, shaking his hand briefly. "Well, Penelope, if you're half as good in games as you are in practice, Crimson's lucky to have you," he says with genuine warmth.

Two fighting knives, I test the edge on my thumb. A perfect red line appears. Good. I sit at my desk. Three laptops wake with a soft chime. Shipment tracker: forty-two containers left Istanbul twenty-one hours ago. ETA Novorossiysk in four days. Port bribes already paid. Money flow: one hundred eighty million moved clean this week from three shell companies. Zero flags. Third screen: live feed from Anya’s room. Anya sits on the edge of the bed with her knees to her chest. The collar still in her hands.

Still, it was enough to show other creatures that we werewolves weren't someone to be messed with. We also invited the Bloody Fangs. The Bloody Fangs was a group of strongest warriors without any ties to the 3 packs. Their most well-known warrior was their leader, The Crimson Warrior, who was also the most blood-lust warrior in the whole Lupo continent. His nickname came from the crimson helmet he kept wearing as he fought. I had heard that the Crimson Warrior himself would attend my ceremony. That made me wonder if he would wear his helmet or not. After all, no one had ever seen his face.

These animals live together in harmony, one which humans can never reacreate or experience. Mark tried to pick up Blake's scent but it became weaker and weaker, covered up by the strong scent of blood. He ran to the very edge of the forest near the highway so he could pick up Blake's Scent when he came upon a car crash site, his heart constricted in pain when he suddenly picked up Blake's scent again, which was even stronger and he ran closer and looked at the car, he sighed in relief when he saw that it was not Blake's car, he could still pick up Blake's scent from farther ahead.