Gray Matter Novels & Stories

“You can take another two aspirin. It’s been long enough since the last two, and drink some more water. Dad made his special breakfast since Mom stayed up for us.” I helped Sarina pull Kimia up and we went down to the kitchen. Mr. Graycort makes an amazing breakfast. He does this cassarole type thing with eggs, bacon, saussage, potatoes, cream of mushroom soup, and cheese. He mixes it all up in a bowl, then dumps it into a cake pan, bakes it until it’s set, then covers it in more cheese. It is heaven in a pan. It’s also not meant for people on a low fat diet. “I don’t know if my stomach can handle it,” Kimia whispered.

Michael huffed and waved me to the living room. "Hurry because the children will be arriving any moment," I added and Michael ran both his hands down his face. "Grayson got a severe brain injury when he was a young pup and because of that, he experiences memory loss every time he's severely injured. The doctor has tried numerous times to cure him but the connections in his gray matter are wonky. He will never rid himself of these episodes if he continues to get injured," he grunted harshly. I exhaled deeply and rubbed my eyes.

What's going on? "Impossible." The old man says. The man that asked me to prove myself smiles and he nods. "like the color of the moon, dark grey bright and beautiful." He says and I'm taken aback. What? How? My eyes have always been that silver-brown color. Like Nathan's how is it a different color now? I close my eyes and open them. As much as I would like to understand this whole thing right now I want to save my cousin.

"They pulled a liter of fluid out of your pleural space. They said the cells they found weren't just inflamed. They were... changing. Crystallizing." "The Grey," I whispered. My voice was a ghost of itself, a raspy tear in the quiet room. "My body is turning into a monument to a pack that hates me. Funny, isn't it?" Silas finally looked at me. His amber eyes were flat, devoid of the pity I’d grown to loathe. "It’s inefficient. You’re no use to me as a corpse, Elara. We have a bridge to build and an empire to dismantle." He stood up and walked over, placing a thin, sleek laptop on my over-bed table. He didn't offer a hand to help me reach it. He knew I’d rather crawl across broken glass than

He asked, immediately taking notice to Aaron's hair. Aaron felt pleased, for some strange reason. "Blonde is bold, you know." He tried joking. "You mean black?" Adrian asked. "Blonde is bold," Aaron said. "Black is a rebel, while brown, is... In the gray. Just like yours." "Mine. Right." He ran his hand through his hair. "But I still like blonde hair. I think I might get mine dyed soon." Clearly it was the liquor talking, but Aaron felt the urge to just squeal like some cheerleader who just a thank you letter from her jocky crush.

Harry, who seemed to have understood, smiled with satisfaction with a proud face. Halvir and Aefar, who didn't understand, could only glance at each other in astonishment. They didn't understand at all what Anindira's mother meant just now. ## Translated from English-ambergris, amber grease, or gray amber is a dense, waxy, flammable, dull gray, or blackish substance that is produced in the digestive system of sperm whales. Freshly produced Ambergris has a sea smell like feces.