Hidden Soldier Novel Novels & Stories

The war unwinnable, her battle lost. And not a dashing soldier in sight. Another quiet life—unnoticed, unseen, ignored—soon to be forgotten as it sat wedged on a shelf between its new neighbors and forever friends. Her whispered pages a sometimes trap for someone young, trusting, alone. Someone with a life easy to forget. The first words already written and waiting to be read. And so it ends.

That was a blood-debt that only an Architect and her Shield could settle. In the barracks of the Vanguard, the soldiers felt the shift. They knew their commander was gone. They knew the "Quiet" was ending. And as the snow began to fall over the silent city of Moscow, the Architect began to weave a new design—one that didn't involve the sky. "Come home, Nevan," I whispered into the dark. "Don't make me burn the world to find you." The Shadow Cabinets were waiting. The man in the tank was waiting. And in the heart of the Alps, the boy with the kitchen knife was finally coming to face the man he thought he had murdered twenty-three years ago.

Rosenthal to me? Right then, the door behind me squeaked open, causing my heart to skip a beat. My arms shot up, pointing the gun in the direction of the door. I peered in to find the bedroom empty. Bracing myself, I entered slowly with dread pumping through my veins. Her bedroom was home to an endless collection of books, and a double-wide bookcase, covering the majority of the wall, held an extensive variety of the occult genre. Interesting... Mrs. Una Rosenthal was a woman with secrets. Dark ones.

With a kiss on the forehead, her mother walked out of the door wiping her nose on the back of her hand as she walked away. Carla held an envelope in her hand and wondered if this would be last she'd know of her baby sister. She hoped not. She opened the envelope and took out a few small pages of crinkled paper and began to read. To my family, If you're reading this then now you know the truth, I'm not dead, I'm alive and well but hiding from Gabriel Black. However, if you're reading this then something has happened to me, either Gabriel has me or was close to finding me-

I stared around the place, everywhere was littered with garbage, the air stinked of cigarettes and waste. Some hoodlums hanged around some buildings looking like hungry dogs. I walked past them as they looked on. I entered an alley and pushed a garbage can out of the way, revealing a trap door. I opened the lock with a key and opened the door. The door had stairs that led underground. I climbed down the stairs after making sure the door was shut. I turned on my phone flash light and searched for the light switch on the wall. I found it and turned the bulb on making the room lit up. This underground house is my personal hideout. I keep photos of my victims here.

He thought back to the past, and he saw Naomi working diligently in the office six years ago in his mind's eye. Naomi had been his first female secretary. She was highly competent, attentive, and had never once made any careless mistakes on the job. Additionally, she had cared for him meticulously in his daily life. After the car accident left him paralyzed, she had stayed by his side without complaint. Without her encouragement and care, he wouldn't have recovered so quickly. That night, he had been drunk and forced himself on her. So, why had he stubbornly believed she had seduced him on purpose?

Right then and there, all I wanted was to get the hell out of that house full of lies and darkness. Past midnight, a ringing sound came from inside the study closet. A phone I'd never seen before was vibrating. I picked it up gently, and a thick layer of dust fell off. Inside were countless intimate photos of her and Pete. Videos of her holding flowers at his college gate while bystanders cheered her on as she chased after him. And a video of her laughing wildly after she finally won him over. It hit me in about one second. This was Jody's backup phone. She had gotten so comfortable because I'd been in the hospital for six months.

I have gathered every broken shard of my life and turned them into stained glass - fragile no more, but brilliant and sharp. So hear me now. My name is Cara. I am the daughter of Alpha-blood and shadow-born unions. I am the survivor who walked out of the silence carrying fire in her hands. The truth I once buried will no longer remain hidden; it will shape the world, and those who mistook my silence for weakness will learn the weight of what I have become. This is my voice. This is my blood. This is my beginning.

“I own the building. This room is also hidden from the floor plans, and the entrance is hidden. This room is also soundproof. Other than me, you are the only one who knows about this room.” “Tristan doesn’t know about this room either? I thought the two of you were best friends and did everything together.” I thought about how Maria was in and out of the apartment. “What about Maria.” “My identity is a little more complicated than what you think.” “What are you, like a secret agent?” I laughed.

nothing. “What the hell?” I whispered. How did I get here? I looked next to me and saw a shovel in one hand and a knife in the other. I tossed the knife away from me in revulsion. My hands were bloody and I trembled in horror. Then, I realized there was a hole near me. Not ready for what I was about to behold, I peeked into the hole and screamed. In the dugout pit. . . was Hailee. . .dead