Glenn Eye Walking Dead Novels & Stories

In the blackness I heard a scuffling sound and ducked. I watched from behind a small statue as a figure moved in the dark, peering into every window and testing the doors. I saw a shock of white hair and realized it was Glenn. /Glenn!/ I mindlinked and he froze. /What the fuck are you doing now!/ He turned around, his legs frozen by my furious Alpha tone. I was shocked at his face. His blue eyes were frantic and wide, a face full of desperation. Whispering, defeating the very purpose of a silent mindlink his voice floated across the grass. “I caught her scent, she’s fucking here Dex!”

I said and started to undone the knot on my blindfold. "Are you insane?" Rai and Aeneas exclaimed together, while Elodie screamed and hid her head between her knees as a kid scared of a storm. Adorable. "Insane?" I turned to meet their eyes, and they met mine, once I had already seen their deaths and they both know that they are going to live for a long time, enough to get married and have tons of children and even met their grandchildren. The same cannot be said for me.

“How many more are there?” “More what?” he asks. He looks around the carnage in the room, but it’s like he doesn’t register it. There’s no fear or shock or surprise. His eyes are blank and lifeless. “Are you doing that to him?” I ask. Zael shakes his head. “He’s a zombie.” “A zombie?” “Yes. It’s old witchcraft. Necromancy. He’s literally a walking corpse.” “Oh, that’s just fan-fucking-tastic,” Glenn says. “How do we kill them?”

Blood bubbles out of the corner of his mouth as he sputters out his dying breaths. Suddenly, his eyes glaze over—but it is not the glaze of death . . . no, this is something . . . different. Trust me, I’ve seen the ‘glaze of death’ enough times to be able to recognize it. There is still consciousness in his eyes—probably more consciousness than there had been moments before—but now there’s something of a distant, crazed glint to his glare. More intent, more focused. If I believed in Voodoo magic, the combination of this horrifying glare and his bloody visage would make me think he’d turned into a zombie.

She looked at me like I'd just grown a second head. "That was to help you wake up," I said, looking down at her. "This is the Blackthorn packhouse, not your personal theater for sob stories. Pack up the cheap drama. It's pathetic." "Elena! Go to hell!" Glen finally snapped. He roared and lunged at me, his fingers already shifting into claws aimed right for my throat. "What the hell is going on in here?" A booming voice thundered from the entrance. A group of people marched in, led by Luna Hannah and a few pack elders.

The predatory snarl in my throat died down, shifting into a low, rumbling vibration of agonized confusion. "Elena..." Kaelen wheezed again, his eyelids fluttering heavily as he fought to keep his vision focused on my glowing eyes. He didn't raise a hand to shield his throat—a single, clear tear cut through the grime and dried blood on his pale cheek. "If you're going to... kill me... just do it. Let me die by your hands."

They looked up. A gaunt face came into view, skin stretched tight over bone, the flesh torn and mangled. One eye had been gouged out. The other was a dull gray, lifeless and cloudy, staring at them without blinking. The smell of living people leaked through the garbage. The one-eyed zombie shuddered with excitement, green light flashing in its eye. It opened its mouth; fresh bits of brain slid off its jaw, the remnants of its meal earlier. "Raarh!"

Elf waiters made red moon inn unique. He held up the tiny shots to our faces with creepy smile. "No thanks, but we don't drink." Gwen declined politely. I quickly took a shot and downed it. Take one Gwen, it's a criteria for going through the door." I lied. The door was guarded by yet another pair of wolves. They were both huge. One of them had a scar running from across his left eye to his chin."I..I had no idea." She said. She was quite flustered as she complied and took a drink the elf handed out to her. Reluctantly she downed the bitter liquid and popped the cup back on the tray. I winked at the elf, he beamed slightly at me in return as he left.

I traced the hand holding the gun, and my sight met that of the pair of eyes that'll forever hunt me. They were bloodred eyes!

Then Elias jumped on him, pinning him to the floor. "Hold it right there!" River said in his human form, cocking a shotgun as he walked into the room. "That is, unless you have a death wish." The Hellhound backed along the floor to the wall, as a low growl resonated from deep within his chest. "Change back or die," Cruz said, coming in with Eve, all of them brandishing weapons. "I'll take care of this." A beautiful woman walked into the room. She had flaming red hair and bright green eyes. It was clear that she was either a vampire or a witch. She held her hands up, and a bright blue light shot from them. "Ostende te!"