Crooked Crows Novels & Stories

Giant was saying, "that was all we asked of you. And you grudge us the food." "Be glad I didn't grudge you fire too." Craster was a thick man made thicker by the ragged smelly sheepskins he wore day and night. He had a broad flat nose, a mouth that drooped to one side, and a missing ear. And though his matted hair and tangled beard might be grey going white, his hard knuckly hands still looked strong enough to hurt. "I fed you what I could, but you crows are always hungry. I'm a godly man, else I would have chased you off. You think I need the likes of him, dying on my floor? You think I need all your mouths, little man?" The wildling spat. "Crows. When did a black bird ever bring good to a

One-third of these flying crows were wrapped in white bones. They loved to eat rotten corpses, so they were famous. Moreover, once they saw weak creatures, these corpse crows would rush over in groups, using their sharp mouths wrapped in white bones to pierce towards their prey. Just then, a group of six or seven corpse crows discovered a figure passing through the valley. This figure had a young face, about 15 or 16 years old. It was a young man with a little tenderness on his face, but his eyes were very deep, like stars in the depths of two universes, shining with strange brilliance.

says James walking towards the man for a final punch. But James's fist stays in midair. A heavy metal cranks on his helmet. An excruciating pain originates in his left brain instantaneously. His vision gets blurry. "James!" Alicia cries out loud. James turns back with his blurry vision. He could only make out that the cart's driver was standing a step away from him. Before James could part the distance to put a punch, a metal rod swings in the air. The heavy impact of metal on James's helmet makes it fly in the air. The helmet falls to the ground and rolls forward to finally stop on its side. The eye-revealing helmet has Christ's cross symbol on its oval head. The cross symbol is now lateral

The Romano family's basement was Wade's personal chamber of horrors, a place reserved for dealing with traitors. Torture devices adorned the walls, and the floor featured ominous channels stained with the dark hue of dried blood. Rosa and Marco were caged like animals, side by side. Rosa's wrist was crudely wrapped, still oozing blood, her face ashen. Marco was a mess of bruises and cuts. The moment I walked in, their eyes were wide with terror.

turned into an open joke, whispered—and sometimes not even whispered—through the office halls. When I passed by a pair of new interns once, they smiled crookedly at me. Then, one of their whispers traveled to my ears. "Quick, the old crow's coming. Watch out, or she'll peck you." "I heard there's a group chat just for her," the other replied, snickering. "Are you in it?" "Not yet. Add me!" Scenes like this played out nearly every day, and it finally came to a head during a major project presentation.

The safe house was a small, unassuming cabin deep in the woods, surrounded by dense trees and hidden from view. I knew about this before and I’m the only person who has access to this. It’s one of the properties of Santoro. We arrived just before dawn, and Giovanni carried a sleeping Rover inside, laying him gently on the couch. I quickly checked the perimeter, ensuring there were no signs of intruders. Satisfied, I joined Giovanni in the small living room.

Third Person POV It was overcast weather but there was no rain. The black clouds had engulfed almost all the sky in his clutch. It was the day after the death of two angels. The snow had stopped falling after midnight and clouds took over that. They were now standing in a church for their funeral. Everyone was dressed in black just like the color of the clouds. The caskets had been brought and now they just had to be lower down in the ground. Andrea Thomas was sitting on a bench and staring ahead. She wasn't giving attention to the priest who had started the funeral speech.

The freaky end of days was coming. I faced the camera, my voice steady for all the people in the city to hear. "The freaky apocalypse is here, folks. I'm going to help you out as best I can. First up, find cover where the wind can't get you, subways, basements, factories, banks, any safe spot." Lights flickered on in every underground parking lot. The ground rumbled with a deep roar, setting the stage for Jim as he led his crew of infant spirits into a clash with the Haunts that sliced through the wind.

I whistled lowly as I climbed the stairs, hoping never to run into father or anybody that would piss me the fuck off. Some sort of tune was playing in the hallway to my room, and I furrowed my brows. Something about the sound was creepy, and I hastened my steps. Whatever the fuclk was going on in my room, the she-wolves around here know better than to go in there without me explicitly requesting it. I pushed open the door, and the room was dark save for the candle lit on my table. I looked down, and rose petals were everywhere, and I fought the urge not to roll my eyes in irritation. I closed the door after me, getting ready to call whoever did this rubbish.

Inside, the atmosphere shifted, it became tighter. Luca adjusted position near the wall — eyes scanning the door, the windows, the room. Jamie noticed. Adrian noticed too. Something was off. The door opened again. Three men stepped inside — unfamiliar. They did not look like regulars, their movements were too coordinated and their attention too deliberate. Jamie felt it instantly — the way prey senses when the forest has gone quiet. One of the men approached the bar.