Crossroads Novels & Stories

I cussed under my breathe. ---- I had to head into San Fransisco. On the go, in the Revenant X-0. The one car that attracted no attention whenever and wherever it was. A ride made for only the CEO of GRM. I stared out the glass as we emerged, the city rising in the distance like a challenge. I had only three true businesses here. One was with Jacob...

Nicholas muttered to himself before quickly dialing Madison's number. The moment the call got through, Madison asked, "Is Astrid still nowhere to be found? Several of my collaborations have been canceled, and I've also lost my endorsements!"

Third-Person POV Xavier clenched his fists as he stood before the receptionist, not budging an inch. "Please tell me where Serena is. I have something important to tell her." The receptionist hesitated, then sighed. "She went abroad. I don't know the details of her transfer, only that it's to Erilea." "Where in Erilea?" Xavier pressed. "I really can't tell you. She made that clear." After thanking the receptionist, Xavier turned and left the office building. He walked out the company doors and stood by the curb.

"Here, anything is possible." I looked around, awestruck. What did she mean? What was the Nexus? Rachel's grip on my hand tightened as we stepped forward, into the unknown. The rock formations loomed ahead, casting long shadows in the fading light. The woman glided beside us, her blue skin seeming to absorb the colors around her. "The Nexus is a crossroads," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Paths converge, and possibilities unfold." As we walked, the air thickened with an otherworldly energy. I felt it vibrating through my veins, like a hum of electricity.

Another watched me, head tilted, before fluttering to the handlebars of the bike. The numbers on my arm dimmed, their light leaching into the swamp mud. Only the crow saw—its red eye reflecting the fading glow like a dying star. The swamp belched up a guttural yipping. Three coyotes slunk from the kudzu, ribs pressing against mange-peeled hides. Their eyes burned amber, too human in the half-light. The leader limped, its left foreleg bent like a question mark etched in bone—a broken compass needle pointing nowhere good. Mamá had warned me about these: the kind Mamá called ‘crossroads hounds’, shaped by the land’s hunger.

He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding and sat back. “Get ready. We’re leaving now.” He stood abruptly and began pulling on his travel clothes. Outside the tent, it was still dark. The only light came from a sliver of the moon hanging low in the dawn sky, casting long, skeletal shadows across the camp. “Are you sure we should leave yet?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. “Yes. We have to cross the Fire Crossroad before night falls. Remember the Land of the Lone Wolves I told you about? We can’t be caught there in the dark.”

Conri growls… “Cr-crossbreeds…You a-are in-indeed a c-catastrophe…Y-you must vanish or else…I must inform them-“ “Do you know what? Why crossbreeds remain legends?” “Yo-“ “It’s because…no one has ever lived after seeing them.” “Ug----kkk!” Conri pulls the ice bow from the Lighten’s knee and watches him slowly losing his breath. "Con, is it not done yet?" Royu flashes in front him like a flowing soundless lightning. "Yeah, let's go. Where is everyone?" Conri asks. "Matt is already cleaning the mess. What should we do after this?"

It wasn’t ideal, but that was their world. Crossroads was a dingy old bar on the outskirts of Reading, used mainly by truckers and construction workers. The bartop was always sticky and nobody could guess the original color of the floors, but it was out of the way and the backroom was private. Jake sat on the far side of the bar and kept watch. Trip and Ripper arrived first and headed straight to the back room. Bandit and Nitro arrived five minutes later, Nitro smirking and lifting his chin when he spotted Jake. Buzzer and Mutt arrived last and when they stepped into the back room, Jake followed closely behind them.

The fabric was incredibly thick and soft, the distinct scent of winter air and faint tobacco lifting from the cotton. Tucked into the front pocket was a small, white square of paper. I grabbed it, my fingers shaking as I flipped it over. Written in that same rough, heavy dark ink was a short message: Locker code 24-11-06. Put it on. Don't let anyone else see you look like that.

The further out they drove, the more rural the scenery became. Highrises and expansive freeways merged into suburban communities and shopping centers. Past the county line, they reached widespread farmland and tall groves that stretched out further than the eye could see. The plowed snow continuously thickened along the narrow roadway as Jade listened to the hum of the tires beneath them. Occasionally, she would peer through a break in the forest and catch a glimpse of ridged mountaintops in the distance. It was now miles between driveways, each defended by rod iron gates and fences.