Dc Deadpool Novels & Stories

Maya was in the supply room, counting soap, because apparently romance was dead but hygiene had survived and become everyone’s problem. “Bitten?” she asked. “Doesn’t look it.” “Armed?” “Knife. Bad one.” “Intent?” “Mostly desperate.” Maya put down the soap. Then Miles added, “Says his name is Dex Hartley.” For one second, the room became very still. Not outside. Outside kept being outside: wind against corrugated metal, distant dead dragging themselves through streets they no longer had appointments in, someone swearing near the water tanks because gravity remained a bastard.

The blood had nearly stopped flowing. The position of his right hand was strange; his fingers curled as if trying to grasp something. I crouched down. In his open left hand, written crookedly in blood, was a single word: "Run". 02:14. One minute left. 02:15 came. Nothing happened. I was still alive. "Substitute death successful. Eric Dawson was killed at 2:14 in Parking Lot C. Remaining loop time: 48 hours. "Go to Parking Lot C. There’s something for you."

"Hand over Valerie, or you can watch this little bastard melt in the silver poison." My husband, Alpha Gideon, locked our daughter in a deadly silver cage, his hands choking my neck as he viciously threatened me. All of this was for his lover, the Omega wolf, Valerie. No matter how I explained that I hadn't even touched Valerie, he wouldn't listen. I fell to my knees and begged him, but he still pressed the button to release the poison. Watching our daughter's little face turn purple, he said coldly, "Don't play me for a fool. I saw the DNA report. She's not my daughter. I don't care if she dies." By the time I finally rushed Mia to the hospital, it was too late. I wanted to leave with Mia's

Isabella's POV I never believed that saying about your life flashing before your eyes when you're about to die. It always seemed cliché and stupid. But everything changed when I stood face-to-face with death, and my life replayed before me, both the good and the bad. --- One Month Later Xander Diaz, known as "the Draco," was killed in a shoot-out with the police. The most dangerous man in the city was gunned down. There has been no statement from his family, and the police urged citizens to celebrate this victory, claiming peace had been restored.

The warehouse fell silent save for the dull, repetitive thud of the bat and Deather’s cold, unfeeling laughter. When he finally stopped, the lifeless body of Mr. Wong lay in a twisted heap at his feet. Deather wiped a hand across his blood-splattered face, his grin unwavering as he turned to his men. The Scarface Cartel members stood in tense silence, heads bowed, their breaths shallow and fearful. “What I did was right, isn't it Drako?” Deather said, addressing his consigliere without so much as glancing at him. Drako nodded hesitantly, his expression stoic yet wary. “Your verdict has never been wrong, Deather.”

Vampires across the continent, connected to me, experiencing this secondhand. All of them waiting to see if their new anchor was worthy. Or if Aleksander would prove that purity mattered more than balance. I stood in the center of the amphitheater, no weapons, no armor. Just my dhampir strength and the weight of the bloodline settling on my shoulders like a physical thing. Across from me, Aleksander Draven smiled. His silver eyes gleamed in the moonlight, and his dark hair was still pulled into that severe bun. "Ready to admit you're unworthy, false queen?"

This action was unprecedented; even in their fiercest fights, she had always kept his contact saved and unblocked, unwilling to lose their call and chat histories. Bradley, concerned about Wade's condition, caught up with him. "I'll drive. I don't trust you behind the wheel right now." In his current condition, Wade would surely crash. Wade remained silent. Once they were in the car, Bradley said quietly, "You know the man too." Wade lifted his gaze. Bradley continued, "It's Chad Hockney." At that name, the forced calm Wade had achieved shattered instantly, replaced by a cold wave of terror and panic. It felt as if an invisible hand had clamped down on his windpipe, stealing his breath.

His chest rose and fell slowly, but there was no mistaking the pain written all over his face. I rushed to his side, my heart hammering in my chest. The adrenaline that had fueled me through the mission suddenly faded, and the reality of what we had just gone through hit me all at once. His powers had drained him. He had given everything he had to protect us, and now he was lying there, barely able to keep his eyes open. “Ethan,” I whispered, my voice thick with panic. I knelt beside him, my hand on his cheek, trying to steady him, but it was clear that his body was barely holding on.

"Go ahead, he's right there." Aria's eyes followed my gesture, and she erupted, her eyes bulging with fury. "Noelle, that's a hearse! It's meant for the dead. How could you put my son in there? "Have you no humanity? After all the kindness my son showed you!" Feigning confusion, I met Aria's gaze. "Mom, what are you talking about? Hearses are for the dead, and isn't your son, well, dead? I don't see the issue."

I say, chugging half of my beer. My gut flips thinking about Hazel riding in a car with drugs. With a loaded gun that isn’t in capable hands. There’s no way Hector knows his way around any real weapons, let alone how to protect her. It’ll only take one junkie who doesn’t know who he is, or they’re too high to care. “There’s this too,” he says, waving at the bartender who brings a newspaper. My gut fully sinks as I take in the headline: “Drug Dealers Robbing Drug Dealers, Five Dead.”