Hooked And Sinkered Novels & Stories

The nuclear submarine "Poseidon," a true "deep-sea behemoth" built by old Sterling with his utmost resources, descended like a ghost in its most desperate moment. Its dark, abyssal hatch slowly opened. Powerful searchlights pierced through the thick smoke and vapors billowing from the sinking of the "Black Mary," precisely locking onto Jack and Catherine.

To fracture. Seven corridors branch outward like spokes. Seven. My pulse skips. To one side, a fully stocked kitchen gleames in stainless steel and marble — stocked not for presentation but for sustained habitation. Adjacent to it, a single corridor bears etched lettering in black glass: BUTLERS. Separate and defined. Each of the seven main corridors bears a gold plaque. Names etched into black glass and illuminated. I step toward mine. Lyria Vale. The letters glow softly. How long had they known? How long had they prepared this configuration? Silence thickens around us. We are reading and calculating.

She stood still like a statue. Bodies still swayed, music still blared, the adoring whispers mingled around corners as the numbing guilt crawled up her body like a disease, baring her of any and every sensation as she realised she stood in deep waters, too deep to find her way back, too dense to ever let her sink, in peace.

As he glanced at the message that had interrupted his day, his heart raced as the words glared back at him in bold, unsettling letters: ~SINK IT~ A chill crept up the man's spine, and his mind raced as the implications of those two words echoed ominously in the confined space. The man’s eyes moistened for a brief moment; he knew he had signed up for the job, but now that the time had come, he wished for a second chance where he wouldn't take the job, but it was too late because him pulling out means the massacre of his entire family.

The safehouse was quiet except for the faint hum of rain against the roof, steady and relentless like the heartbeat of a world that refused to die. Justina sat cross-legged on the cold floor, the encrypted drive before her. The small silver device gleamed under a flickering bulb, its edges scorched from the explosion. Carson watched her from across the room, his back against the wall, one hand absently rubbing the scar along his wrist. the reminder of how close they’d come to losing everything.

The pier seemed to loom before us as Erin said, "I never would've figured it out that you've played me like a fiddle if it weren't for Dean. Cassandra, I have to admit. You're a good actress. Too bad you fell into my hands. Dean is going to make you suffer." There was a boat docked at the pier. All we had to do was walk down the long gangway to board it. Despair and resentment rose within me as I saw the boat's propellers churning the water. I never expected to be dragged into the abyss, even after all my meticulous planning. We switched to several different boats along the way. As we made our journey to the final boat, it was going so fast that one of the two burly men and Erin both got sea

The rain hadn’t stopped. It followed them out of the city, a constant gray hum against the windows as Kovoc’s black car sliced through the highway. Kimberly sat beside him, her heart a mess of disbelief and dread. Her brother was alive. The same brother whose debt had sold her into Kovoc’s hands. “Where is he?” she asked quietly, eyes on the blur of lights outside. Kovoc’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “A warehouse near the docks. My men found him two days ago. He was supposed to be dead, Kimberly.”

The crowd petered off around four pm, the father and son duo had not yet been able to get the second thing hooked up. They were slowly starting to tire, and loose hope. Cynthia stopped them after James nearly drowned when his anchor rope somehow got tangled up with the chain, which in turn, got tangled up in a crevice somewhere below them. He could not go up, or down. Joe had gotten him untangled just in time, but still the boy was rushed to shore spluttering and vomiting muddy water.

" I was clinging to the jagged rocks below the cliff-face. Barely alive. I could see what was left of the flaming ship on the horizon. My first love, sinking to the bottom of the ocean and taking too many poor souls with her. A Captain would never abandon his crew, I should have gone down with them. I had been distracted, the wind was calling to me. I could see the cliff line in the distance and was entranced by the sweetest sound to ever reach my ears. My trance was cut short by the first blast, which threw me from the deck into the depths below. Amongst the chaos of flame, cracking timber and cries for help... I could still hear it. So, I swam in the only direction that made sense, toward

Sebastian reached the railing just in time to see ripples spread across the surface. “Alina!” He spun. “Dive! Now!” Milton and two operatives were already moving. “Sebastian... wait!” Julian’s voice called. But Sebastian didn’t pause. He tore off his jacket and jumped. The water was ice-cold, knocking the breath from him. He forced himself under, scanning through darkness and bubbles, arms sweeping wide. Nothing. Milton surfaced nearby, gasping. “I’ve got Hangman!” Two operatives dragged Hangman toward the dock, coughing and struggling, finally cuffed.