Forsaken #coolkid Novels & Stories

The warmth of the evening air turned cold as Serena stared at the symbol seared into the paper—a jagged moon bleeding black ink, surrounded by thorned runes. Her fingers clenched around it involuntarily. The Forsaken. Once thought annihilated, they were little more than whispers in the dark, monsters parents warned their children about. But Serena knew this wasn’t folklore. It was real. The mark pulsed with the kind of malevolent energy that couldn’t be faked.

“Then what was it?” I exhaled slowly. “Something ancient. It called itself the Forsaken.” Killian’s expression darkened. “That name isn’t new. I’ve heard of it before, but only in old stories. The Forsaken were said to be powerful beings that existed long before our kind. Some say they were cursed. Others say they were gods that fell from power.” A shiver ran down my spine. “It said I was the vessel.” Killian’s jaw tightened. “That’s not good.”

“You think he wrote something else about the Forsaken?” “He knew more than he let on,” Nicola replied. “I just need to find it.” Finally, she came upon a passage that caught her attention. The page was heavily annotated, the handwriting sharper and more hurried than usual. “The creation of Forsaken is not random - it’s deliberate. A corrupted energy source fuels their transformation, but it requires a willing participant to guide the process. Look for the signs of manipulation, the whispers of betrayal among your own.” Nicola’s heart skipped a beat. “A willing participant…”

“I was ignorant before. It will cost us huge tributes to keep the peace unless we ally with the Northwind Pack. You were right. It’s time I start acting for the pack.” Following a heavy silence, my father murmured, “Oh, you’ve grown.” By the time I ended the mind link, tears streamed down my face. Had I grown, though? No, my heart was gone, taking every shred of feeling along with it. I wiped away my feelings roughly and started to clear out every memory of Justin in the room. There was this wooden sculpture of a wolf he carved for me when we were sixteen. Our kiss was caught on camera at the Shifting Academy graduation.

My voice sounded hoarse and almost unrecognizable from the effect of the cold. "You sent him a text saying you returned home." He replied, standing a few meters away from the cell, his hands tucked into his pockets. "What?? I never did-" I was beyond surprise and quickly searched my pockets looking for my phone, which was nowhere to be found. Tyler!! He must've done that because it was the only way to keep Wesley away. What did I expect? He must've just been as evil as I thought earlier and the actions of our clan still aren't enough reason to justify his actions back then. He was just naturally evil.

I chuckled and agreed. It would be okay if I did not go home early. No one was going to wait for me. I decided to switched off my mobile. A day with a best friend was never dull. ~"~"~"~"~"~"~ Two hours afterwards, Max gave me a lift home. We had fun. We paid a visit to an orphanage first and later, spent a good time at Frenchsham beach where we satiated our hunger with burgers and chips and quenched our thirst with cold coca-cola. We had indeed freshened our old memories.

Arnold smirked and walked away. Arnold took quick steps towards his room. As soon as he entered, he closed the door and locked it before removing the uncomfortable cloak he wore. He carefully hung it on the hanger and hurried to open the drawer in the side table. He took an old picture book and slowly opened it. He took the picture he had carefully hidden for the past twenty years. He carefully traced the features of the girl flashing the smile he had fallen for. The dimple on her right cheek was his favourite. Her baby blue eyes sparkled as she smiled and it felt as if the whole world smiled with her.

It will be so nice to get inside. “Foster!” A familiar spindly boy all legs with dark hair climbs from the passenger side, as inappropriately dressed for the weather as ever. Those signature ripped jeans look like he might as well be wearing shorts, and the jacket I’m sure was measured for women looks a little too thin and small to offer much warmth. Somehow, I would imagine he’d be a bit more excited to head in than we are.

Daniel walked for hours around the city. He was determined to go anywhere other than back to the Bostonian. He had so many things running through his head. His father sends Wyatt to see if he can be saved and stop the war that both sides have been waiting for. Elizabeth and him having a son and he’s eleven, and his life's in the same danger as Elizabeths. Daniel just wanted to walk away from all of this. How he wished that it had been Wyatt that was Forsaken instead of him. He felt everything way too much to be cut out for this job. These twelve years of soul collecting. So many souls collected for a war that might never happen. So many people sacrificed for what.

Damon Foster. A former member of Silverwood, exiled for crimes that still haunted my nightmares. I had thought him dead, but here he was, alive and more dangerous than ever. “I see you remember me,” he said, his smile cold and calculating. “Good. It saves me the trouble of reintroducing myself.” “What are you doing here?” I demanded, my hands balling into fists. “You shouldn’t have been able to get this close to Silverwood.” “Oh, but I did,” he replied, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “You see, Sera, I’ve been planning this for a long time.