Disney Blue Warning Screen Novels & Stories

[Eleanor’s POV] I watched Lorenzo carefully take apart the ring box for the second time. He took out the flash drive and pulled it directly into his laptop. He and I huddled in close to glance down at the screen, waiting. Suddenly, a dark blue, familiar logo popped up. It was the infamous emblem of the Blue Moon Pack. A few seconds later, several other small windows began popping up on the screen. A terrifying thought came rushing through my mind—my God, what if the flash drive was defective?

One message: > You two are going to pay for that little show today. And then: > Watch your backs, faggots. My chest tightened. I took a screenshot. Blocked the account. But the fear didn’t disappear. It just crawled into bed with me and whispered worst-case scenarios until I couldn’t sleep. --- Blue called me around midnight. His voice was quiet. Barely a breath. “You okay?” he asked. “Not really.” “Me neither.” We didn’t talk for long.

Once everything was secure, John's mind linked to Alpha George and told him we had made it safe here, and the house was basically on lock down. Then Alpha George sent out the mind link alert. All wolves must make it back to their houses now, all store owners must close down shops and get home now. Rogues have been spotted in our territory. All wolves and pack members, besides those on patrol or the guards, must be inside at all times. This is no warning. Remain calm as you do so, for panicking will not help. I will let you know when it's safe to go back outside. John sat down. " You should rest," said John.

After a huge struggle, the glass screens finally flicker with blue light, and the tech wolves let out a massive sigh of relief. But the second the magic mirrors glow, every single warrior's jaw drops to the stone floor. Across every screen in the Keep, big, bloody red letters appear, screaming for attention. “Consider this a warning from the wild. If your beast dares to mistreat our lady again, my wolf will come back to tear your halls down! Watch your throat, Chief Blackmoor.” Every guard and servant in the Keep glues their eyes to the monitors. Then, completely forgetting they are standing in front of their Alpha, the whole hall erupts into a crazy frenzy of whispers and pack gossip.

Aria whispered, her voice tight as a sudden, sharp electronic chime echoed from the box. The screen on her wrist flickered violently, changing from pale blue to a dangerous, warning shade of deep violet. The old network paths she was trying to trace weren't just routing data; they were wired to trigger an immediate, high-frequency alarm if the central mainframe registered an unverified biometric signature.

“I can’t. I am with friends.” “I saw them.” He grabbed some clothes and threw them to me. “Just get out of here and find a dark blue sedan. You don’t wanna end up in that fucking place again, Blue. The second time might not be good for you. You might not be able to survive once they catch you again.” I shivered. “You’re scaring me.”

he asked with his eyes wide in disbelief. “Or else?” Kulv asked back and cupped Blue’s face. “I thought that you were abducted by the witch, okay?!” he said and frowned as he wiped the tear stains on Blue’s face. “After all, the witch is about to come to the West Kingdom. So, we all have to be more careful, okay?” he said. Blue nodded with a blank expression on his face. He never had seen Kulv this nagging. Meanwhile, the others smiled as they looked at them.

It started squeezing my throat again as the lights flickered and new red warning messages flashed across every screen: WARNING: FORSAKEN PROTOCOL ACTIVATED CONTAINMENT BREACH IN PROGRESS

The soda cans on the floor rattled. “Who even says that?” I muttered, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. The screen flickered. Once. Twice. Then everything froze. “What the hell…” I leaned in, tapping the escape key like that would do anything. The cursor started dancing—without me touching it. I ripped my hands off the keyboard. “Okay. Not funny, guys.” My speakers hissed. A pop-up blinked on the screen: YOU'VE BEEN SEEN. “Nope, nope, nope,” I muttered, diving for the power cable.

Just the soft hush of sleeping wolves recovering from a night of frenzy. I step into the monitor room and flick on the lights. The screens buzz to life, glowing with the grainy black-and-white images of the grounds. I scan each feed carefully. Every Omega is asleep, curled into nests or sprawled in tangled sheets. No Betas. No Gammas. Nothing moving. The grounds are still. And yet one of the warning lights is blinking. I lean in, narrowing my eyes as I try to pinpoint the movement it’s flagged. Nothing looks off. No shadows. No sound. Just the red flash at the corner of the screen, pulsing steadily like a heartbeat.