Four Or Dead Novels & Stories

Kael tapped the screen, and the headline lit up instantly, bold and chilling: **"MYSTERIOUS DEATHS CONTINUE AMID ICE CIRCUIT: THIRD PLAYER FOUND DEAD OUTSIDE ARENA" I took a step closer, reading over his shoulder. The article described how, over the last four days, three players from different teams had been found dead in almoo similar conditions, no visible wounds, just collapsed in alleyways or locker rooms. And all within hours of finishing a game or training session.

“The stronger the wolf, the more mates they can sustain bonds with. Four mates means you’re much more powerful than anyone knows.” Despite the indignation that coursed through me—having a fourth mate felt like a curse, not a blessing—part of me was curious about what this mysterious fourth mate might be like. Was he another cocky asshole like Lucas? Another brooding jerk like Rowan? Or something else entirely? But mostly, I just hoped I never ran into him. Three mates were already more trouble than I knew what to do with. “Can we continue training?” I asked. “I want to get stronger so I can figure out how to deal with the Elders.”

Slow and uncertain Two...Soft and smooth Three...Strong and delicious Four...A growing passion. Five..."Hmm," he moaned a little. Six..."Hm," I answered with a small deeper moan. Seven...We breathed heavily looking ourselves straight in the eyes. Yes, darling. I’m gonna put you in jail. I promise. I swear I will.

I don’t know why, but something is rotten in my gut and it’s never wrong. We storm through the building, Roddy’s being the last room at the end of the long ass hallway. The door is locked and Grouch sticks his ear to it, then backs up and kicks it open. The immediate stench of death I know all too well hits my nose and I can’t believe nobody has noticed it. It’s at least fifteen doors from mine. Missile and Grouch storm in, but I can already see the lifeless body of Ryan “Roddy” Grimes on the bed. I step in the room and see a needle sticking right out of his fucking arm. His skin is already discolored, he’s been dead a couple days. And nobody even realized it. Some brotherhood we are.

All of them were looking at the body on the ground with a sad and indignant look on their faces. “Number four!” The First Elder flew down and directly knelt in front of the Fourth Elder. “Number four! Why…Why did you die such a horrible death?! Number four, who was the one that killed you? I will definitely avenge you! We shall definitely avenge you!” The Fourth Elder had a good relationship with the First Elder but no matter how the First Elder called out to him, the Fourth Elder was dead and was no longer breathing. “Who was that? Could it really be somebody from the Nine Armies who’s at the ninth-grade ultimate god-level?” Edward had a cold expression on his face and he felt extremely bad

Fabian hit the floor like a dog face-planting in the dirt, groaning in pain. His lackey, Chester, grabbed a chair and swung it at me after seeing him getting hit. I dodged to the side, kicked him hard in the butt, and sent him crashing into the pile of wreaths. Fabian scrambled up from the ground with his fleshy face twisted in fury. “Are you tired of living, Mattie? Do you have any idea where the Jeffersons stand in Cirrus? Even having ten lives would not save you!” I curled my lips. There weren’t many people in this world who could take my life.

As if my authority can somehow keep death at bay. She whimpers, a pitiful sound that cuts through me. She can't be more than eleven, her shift not yet fully under control. The wounds across her torso are deep, deliberate—not meant to kill quickly, but to ensure a slow, painful death. A message written in suffering. Alaric kneels beside me, his face grim as he assesses the damage. "The others?" I ask, not taking my eyes from the task at hand. "Three dead already," he says quietly. "The fourth is hanging on, but barely."

“How?” He looked at Aria. “She killed me.” Emily froze. “No.” “She had no choice.” “Why?” “Because I tried to stop her.” “From what?” The older Kael's eyes filled with sadness. “From opening the fourth world.” Emily felt the blood drain from her face. “There are four?” The older Kael nodded. “There are always four.” The First Soul whispered: “Beginning.” The older Kael nodded. “Creation.” Emily swallowed. “Destruction.”

Death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death

All four of them go rigid at once, wolves rising just beneath their skin, and Riven is already moving toward the doorway when a folded scrap of parchment slides across the floor from the dark beyond it, stopping at my bare feet like it was aimed there on purpose. No one steps through the doorway to claim it. Whoever left it is already gone. My hands are shaking as I unfold it. Four words, written in ink the color of dried blood. Choose one, or lose all.