Dirty Book Pages Novels & Stories

Author's Note: Guys, guess what... DIRTY PAGES is officially on 1k views!!! Thank you so, so much, guys. Hitting 1,000 views on my very first book means more to me than you could ever imagine. I was literally awake last night, watching that 996 view count like my life depended on it – refreshing, pacing, hoping – and when it finally flipped to 1.0k, I swear my heart did a whole somersault.

Her juices coated them. “Oh god… oh god, oh god…” She tried to breathe quietly, but her body betrayed her, hips shifting against the seat. The desk rattled softly. She scrolled the story again with trembling fingers. The curse always demanded climax. She couldn’t fight it, no matter how much she tried. “F-fuck, I’m close…” she whispered, teeth sinking into her lip. Her hand worked faster, desperate. The slick sound was faint under the desk, but she swore it was deafening.

He deserves it for not bringing me any breakfast. My stomach growls as I keep exploring my new room. There are books all over the place. I pull out A Healer’s Encyclopedia, A Collection of Diseases and Ailments, and A Compendium of Poisons from the shelves. One dusty book stands out to me. Experiments: Book One is scrawled in nearly unreadable handwriting on the thick spine. I flip it open to a random page. Wolves Healing Times is written in messy letters at the top of the parchment.

I asked. Bibi Kamwe moved like a ghost, pulling a book from beneath the floorboards. The cover was made of some kind of dried, dark leather. It creaked when she opened it. The pages were stained, ink running in twisted scrawls. “You must make the vessel,” she said. “What vessel?”

The books here looked like they hadn't been touched in decades. One spine caught my eye. It was thick, bound in dark, cracked leather with no title on the front. I pulled it out, and a cloud of dust made me cough. "What did you find?" Marcus asked from across the room. "Just an old book," I called back. I sat down on the floor, tucked away between two shelves where he couldn't see me clearly. I opened the book. The pages were yellowed and brittle, covered in cramped, handwritten script. It wasn't a standard history book. It looked more like a journal or a collection of legends.

As he lifted it, the vellum felt heavy and thick between his knuckles, carrying the physical texture of a real object rather than a digital asset. "The Desk is vacant," he repeated, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that felt entirely integrated with the sound of the tide. He turned the page over; the reverse side was completely blank, waiting for a texture that hadn't been programmed. "She didn't run out of ink, Sara. She walked away from the ledger. She left the book open because she realized a story about a balanced account is a story that nobody wants to read."

Regulus Blackwood’s office. I turn the knob slowly. It gives with a soft click. The smell hits instantly. Old paper, stale ink, and something metallic underneath. I step inside and close the door quietly behind me. The room is cluttered with books and half-filled folders. Nothing looks organized. Shelves sag under the weight of documents. Drawers stick out slightly, like someone left in a hurry. My wolf whispers inside me. Something happened here. I move to the desk and pull out the top drawer. Journals. Thick ones with black covers. I grab the closest and flip it open.

“Wipe the floor, you stupid hickey girl!” Phil’s eyes widened in shock. Before anyone could react, Dr. Holly violently shoved Belle downward. Belle lost her balance and painfully collapsed onto the wet floor. “You clean this mess with your filthy clothes, or I’ll use your face to wipe it!” Dr. Holly hysterically screamed. “You stupid idiot! Were you trying to embarrass me?! Of all days, you just had to ruin today!” Dr. Holly continued raging while Dr. Stan and Dr. Ken struggled to pull her away from Belle, who remained miserably slumped on the floor covered in spilled juice.

Mike asked. "Tink find dirty book," the goblin whispered. Picking it up, she opened the pages and turned it around. In stunning detail was an image of a werewolf, his monstrous member dangling between his legs as he jerked his load into the hungry mouth of a pair of women on the ground beneath him.

I felt it again and I started to dig with my bare fingers. I didn’t dig too far before I pulled out a book with a cover as hard as wood. Dirt from the soil was all over it so I brushed it away. A couple of scents caught my nose but the smell of blood was thick in the air. Was it from the book? I studied the book closely, confused. Flipped through its pages and it was filled with written words on each page. Written, not printed. Like a journal. And on the final page was what seemed like a detailed map to some place but I didn’t even understand anything. I didn’t even know what I was looking at.