Cross Sans Human Novels & Stories

When they were done, we were good to go. “Are you guys ready? We’ll be the first group of people to cross over since nineteen years ago. The Nomad World may take a while for you to get used to,” Claude warned Thane, Clayton, and Brantley. “We’ll be fine,” Clayton stated confidently. I squeezed his hand. “Ok! Let’s do this!” Cyrus said. We all held in our breaths as we held hands, before we crossed over. Luckily for us, it was only sunrise when we opened our eyes. I felt normal, and by the looks of things, so did everyone else. Clayton, Thane, and Brantley looked fascinated.

the ma snarled at Frix who immediately stood with both of his hands raised on his head level, his eyes wide with terror. My brows furrowed. I slowly lifted my face to look clearly at the man in front of me, who was holding a pistol crossbow and pointing it at my face. He is wearing a fishtail parka which is smudged by what I see as his own blood and ichor of a demon. His thick disheveled, brown hair is clumped with clotted blood. He’s injured. And he’s a total human! What is a human doing in this place?!

At his feet, all the cans lay scattered, some dented, some leaking a slow trail of black sand. On the counter in front of him, a weapon rested where the carnie had set it down. Not a rusted pipe or a chipped knife. A sleek, wicked crossbow that hummed faintly with power, its limbs etched with symbols that looked a little too much like the runes on the Safe Room door. “Holy—” Jax breathed. “Okay, that’s actually—” The boy’s grin faltered. His brow furrowed. He looked down at the crossbow like he’d forgotten what it was.