Deep Books Novels & Stories

People feared the unknown, hence 'The Deep' was one of the most feared forbidden areas in all of Zandor. Unlike the Forest of Gloom, The Deep wasn't located on flat land, but was actually a valley. If one stood on a higher ground, they could easily identify this death trap. This valley was completely desolate, and no matter how brightly the sun shone, its luminous rays could never penetrate the darkness that coated the valley. Like a blanket, this darkness prevented any light from getting through. Even rain was no exception to this exile. Seeing a figure seated in this dark land would have terrified anyone, for how could someone survive in this place?

His lies were catching up to him now that his three women had crossed paths, and the truth about his affairs was laid bare for everyone to see. I'd been with James from the beginning, supporting him when he had nothing. I thought I knew him well. But knowing how my mother had passed away, he still made the same mistake as my father - actually, worse. He was juggling three women at once. No wonder he'd gone crazy today if he enjoyed such low behavior. I couldn't bear to think about how dirty James's life had been when I wasn't looking. The thought that I'd spent three years with someone like this made me shudder.

A tool that worked to pay for its own survival. I walked into the kitchen and looked at the mountain of greasy dishes. Then, I plunged my hands into the freezing water. After I was done, I took out the small notebook I kept hidden in my pocket and carefully wrote down some details. [Senior year. Fainted. Hospital debt: 600.] [Goal: Get out of there.] [Step one: Get into the farthest college possible.]

"What did they call them before?" Obanai looked at me with the particular expression of someone who was delighted to have a new audience. "The Deep Floor. Which is exactly what it sounds like. The lower geological level of the northern realm, sitting beneath habitable land the way a cellar sits beneath a house." He leaned forward. "The problem is that the cellar is rotting and no one built a drain." "That's a very specific metaphor." "It's an accurate one." Nala was looking at her nails. Hale had closed his eyes.

The ground split open in a ring around Kael, exposing molten light below. Kael dropped to his knees, pressing his palms to the ground. His blood hissed as it touched the soil, the runes drinking it greedily. The black veins along his arms blazed to life, tendrils of shadow rising from his skin. Aria called out his name, but he barely heard her. The Deep was awake now. It surged through him like a storm, flooding his senses with memories that weren’t his. He saw glimpses of cities swallowed whole, moons torn from the sky, wolves kneeling before something vast and unseen.

They were bidding for his head. The Deep Blue was a society of people who lived underground. All of them were influential individuals. All of them were millionaires who had striven by doing evil things: drugs, politics, religion, loan sharking, and even human trafficking. He had heard about this group long ago, but this was the first time he saw how things were done inside their lair! He thought they were a hoax, but they weren't. They were there, enjoying how they were playing with his life like he was just a piece of artifact. In short, 'He. Was. In. Hell'. The buzz sounded again, blinding him a little when the number on the screen changed. He wanted to escape. He would if he could. Howeve

★𝕬𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖆 The pressure of the deep ocean was a suffocating, humbling force. Unlike the crisp, quick movement of the Sky Islands, the deep was slow, dense, and utterly indifferent to the politics of the surface.

“We seek the Hydro-Node to break the Sequence! The Black Mountain is waking, and the sky is falling! We offer the Gold to those who have lived in the Dark for too long!” ​The lead Deep-Wolf—a massive creature with a tail like a leviathan and scars that glowed like neon across its flank—approached the glass. He didn't speak; he didn't have vocal cords for the air. Instead, he pressed a webbed, silver-clawed palm to the viewport, inches from my own hand.