District 9 Book Novels & Stories

He said, “Morrow, District 12 is unlike Districts 4 and 5. That’s the Death Block, and five miles around that area are neutral zones. People from other districts can’t enter without a permit. Moreover, if the people inside know that our branch family sent people over to monitor the situation, I’m afraid it won’t leave a good impression.” Morrow nodded, looked at Levi, and asked, “Levi, do you have any other business here?” Levi smiled and said, “Granduncle Morrow, I have something important to discuss with everyone.”

At the DeLuca Family banquet announcing its new advisor, Matteo said he was going to end nine years of secrecy and finally acknowledge our relationship in public. I stood in the back row of the banquet hall, so nervous I'd crumpled my prepared speech into a ball. Over nine years, I'd cleaned up the port books for him three times, negotiated two cross-border shipping routes, and taken a bullet for him. Everyone knew the DeLuca Family had a female advisor who never showed her face, but no one knew I was that woman. I thought that after tonight, I would finally stop being his shadow. Until the screen at the front of the banquet hall lit up. There was no photo of us. Instead, there was only a si

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The man hung his head low, his fingers buried deep in his hair, carefully considering where I might have gone. As his eyes wandered, they suddenly fell upon the trash can nearby. Those pink fragments looked so familiar that the moment he saw them, he felt like he couldn't breathe. He slowly crouched down, not caring that the cream stains would dirty his sleeves. He picked up the pieces from the trash can bit by bit. Then, he carefully assembled them back together. There were exactly 99 reconciliation vouchers. He remembered five years ago, when he had looked at those vouchers and sincerely promised me, "Cecilia, don't worry. I'll never give you a reason to use them."

Caitlin sat in her office in the university library, elbow on her desk, head in her palm, poring over the book before her. She had spent all morning pulling rare books from the stacks, and now her desk was covered with them. But these were not the usual books she worked on. When she’d arrived this morning, the first thing she had done was clear her desk of all her work books—and made room for a whole new set of books. She had walked into work today determined, obsessed with finding out exactly what was happening to her daughter and figuring out how to help her.

Two Years Later. District 9. The Safehouse. The apartment was a concrete box that smelled of ozone, stale coffee, and the damp mold of the city. The windows were covered with black trash bags taped to the glass. A tangled nest of ethernet cables ran from a stolen junction box outside, snake-like across the floor, plugging into a server rack that hummed in the corner. Oryn sat by the door. He was nineteen now. He had grown even broader. He sat on a milk crate, a serrated combat knife in his hand, whittling a piece of wood into a sharp point. He didn't look up. He didn't need to. He felt the vibrations of the room.

Somewhere deep down, I felt the life inside me slipping away, bit by bit. Just then, a rustling sound came from under the door gap. I thought Lorenzo had come back, and a spark of hope ignited in my chest. "Lorenzo! Lorenzo! I’m bleeding! Call an ambulance!" However, the response wasn't the sound of the door opening. It was several balls of lit newspaper and strips of cloth soaked in alcohol being shoved through the gap. The storage room, already sealed tight, was instantly filled with fire and rolling thick smoke. It choked me, stinging my eyes shut.

One whole week alone in the house with Mike Junior would be here as well but he goes to school. He also goes to bed early and stays in his room most times playing games. This was my chance. But it was dangerous. This was the worst sin a girl could ever think of… But my pussy got wet just thinking about all the things I'd have to do to get Mike's attention on my body **** Saturday came and I helped my mother pack her bags I bidded her goodbye at the door and hugged her tight “I will miss you mom. Come back soon” But inside my head I was already planning. I was thinking about Mike’s cock. I felt so bad for thinking these dirty things while hugging my own mother but the bad feeling made my pant

"I can handle myself. I grew up in the Shadowclaw District." "The District is a playground compared to where you're going. Valemont doesn't just bite; it swallows." "Is that why you're helping me? To give me a warning? Or do you just like playing the hero for strangers in first class?" "I don't play hero. And you aren't just a stranger. You’re the only thing in this terminal that doesn't smell like fear and cheap cologne." "You're very blunt. Is that a Russian trait? Or just a 'You' trait?"

No signatures on the plaque—only the flood date, and below: "You are remembered in what we rebuild." Elira got down, laying a crumpled note at the bottom. Unsigned. Behind her, a man spoke, "How long before this spot forgets once more? She looked up, gently. “As long as someone asks that question out loud—it won’t.” He exhaled, and touched the stone with his fingertips. “Then I’ll keep asking.” --- 12:06 PM — District Nine, Corner Café Reopening The café had mud-marked tiles and mismatched furniture. A sign read: OPEN, IF YOU’RE HUNGRY OR JUST LONELY.