How Was Zombies Made Novels & Stories

Everyone in the underworld knew Rosalie Thorne, the "Thorn Principessa" of the North. Wild, rebellious, notorious. Street racing, high-stakes gambling, guns, and drinking, she had mastered them all. The rose-and-thorn tattoo on the nape of her neck drove countless men wild. But what they didn't know was that for Rocco, the new mob boss of the South, a single sentence, "I prefer a more obedient woman," was all it took. At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses. I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted. Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna." I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian. "Rosalie, she has a temper. She'll make a scene if she doesn't get the title." "You're the good one, the obedient one. Just let her have this." That day, I walked straight out into the rain and never looked back. I was never truly obedient. I just made myself smaller for him. My family had already chosen a husband for me. They had been waiting five years, just for me to say yes.

My parents always said the world had no sympathy for the weak. So from the moment my younger brother and I could walk, they put us through what they called the 'Strong Child Program.' At five years old, we had to run five kilometers every day. If we could not finish, we were not allowed to eat. At seven, my brother broke his arm. My parents refused to let the doctors use anesthesia, saying enduring pain was a lesson every strong person had to learn. At nine, I burned with a 104℉ fever. Instead of taking me to the hospital, they wiped my body with ice water and forced me to endure it because 'sick children grow stronger immunity.' Then, on the first day of summer vacation, my father announced this year's special training: We were going to learn to swim in the Roaring Spine River. No life jackets. No safety gear. "You only learn after choking on water a few times," my father said. But my brother choked over a hundred times and still could not swim. I desperately swam toward him, trying to pull him back to shore, but somehow the distance between us only kept growing. I called my father, screaming for help, begging him to call emergency services. But after listening to me, he only snorted coldly. "Who learns swimming without swallowing some water? "Your brother isn't made of paper. "Stop yelling and focus on learning to swim." But by then, my brother had already been swept away by the current…

Maynard Hansen planned a luxury birthday cruise for Darlene Thompson, but the cruise ship capsized when a violent storm swept in without warning. Without hesitation, Maynard gave the last seat on the lifeboat to Darlene. As I struggled in the water, my son, Waldo Hansen—whom I carried for nine months and gave birth to—cried out, "Don't let Mom up! She'll push Ms. Thompson off." Clutching nothing but a broken plank, I somehow made it to shore. By the time I collapsed on the sand, I was frozen, exhausted, and done. I had never felt so alone. Shortly after, I found myself clutching a diagnosis of severe depression in my hand. I was ready to bring this wretched life to a quiet end. But when my husband and son realized I truly didn't want to live anymore, they collapsed into tears. They wrapped their arms around me as they sobbed, "Please don't leave us. We really can't live without you."

"Boss, Madam said you were exploiting her labor. She wants to resign." "I don't allow." He wore gold-framed glasses, focusing on the stack of documents in front of him. As he looked up, it seemed the summer sun's brightness could only match his handsome face, "Has she not realized her mistake?" Seeing his calm demeanor, his assistant panicked, "This time, Madam wants to resign as your wife." Impossible! Even when his son went to school, he had teachers to care for him. How could he work so hard in this office but not receive a bit of care from his wife? He wanted to meet her right now! After only a few minutes without seeing her, he already missed his little girl. --------------------- It's still the same 'him' from four years ago. "Emma Garcia, I'm so tired. If you're so heartless towards me, never let me see you again!" Who dared to say that to his wife four years ago? He'd hit them! After pursuing his wife for so many years, no one can prevent him from pampering her anymore!

My wife, an airline captain, was eight months pregnant when her plane crashed. In the middle of the disaster, she carried out an emergency landing. I searched through the wreckage for any sign of my wife, Candice Jenkins, only to be told that not even her remains could be found. Other than me, the only survivors were my wife’s younger sister and her brother-in-law, Austin Ryles. I searched frantically for my wife’s whereabouts, but five months later, I accidentally overheard my sister-in-law arguing with a friend while drunk. "Austin suddenly lost his wife, and his arm was injured in the crash. How could I just leave him alone? "Back then, Jon Cole’s mother drugged me and forced me to marry him. After all these years, it’s impossible for me not to feel some resentment. I might as well use this chance to make up for my regrets. Once Austin’s arm recovers, everything can go back to normal." Only then did I realize that the 'sister-in-law' standing before me was actually my missing wife, Candice Jenkins. My heart turned cold. I threw her memorial portrait into the trash and called my parents. "Stop looking for Candice. Just erase her records. "I’m remarrying."

My mom often makes an example out of someone when it comes to parenting. Unfortunately, I'm that someone, while my little brother, Raymond Nelson, benefits from it. Ever since I was four years old, my mom had been using this method. If Raymond breaks a bowl, I'm the one kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces. If Raymond destroys something belonging to someone else, I'm the one writing the reflection report on his behalf. Mom tells me, "You're the older sister here. Since you can't keep your brother in line, you're the one at fault." But Raymond can never get rid of his bad habit of stealing and lying. When Franklin Harris, the owner of a grocery store, comes knocking on our door, Raymond points at me once again. "She was the one who stole your money!" In order to help Raymond get rid of this problematic habit of his, Mom decides to hand me over to the owner. "Sorry, Franklin. It's my fault for not raising my child well. I'll give my daughter to you. You can do whatever you want to her, be it scolding her or beating her up." Little does she know that I will never go home after Mr. Harris takes me away.

Lucas Fenrir was the son of the Alpha of the Silvertail Pack, born as the pack's greatest pride. When his Luna and first love, Nara Boris, chose to leave, he married me in a fit of rage—the most unremarkable Omega in the pack. Everyone said I was just a substitute for Nara. They were waiting to see me abandoned, to see me cry, and to see me beg on my knees. Nonetheless, I always smiled and calmly fulfilled Lucas' every demand. I helped him stabilize the pack's morale, stood up for him in public, and even defended him against the rumors that he had rekindled his past romance with Nara. Until one day, I saw him on the streets during the Moon Goddess Festival. He was holding Nara, kissing her deeply. Meanwhile, I simply turned my head away in silence from behind the crowd and pretended I saw nothing. A few months later, I was diagnosed with wolfsbane poisoning that had spread to my nervous system. My condition was beyond saving. I was admitted to the ICU of the pack's hospital, with only a few days left to live. Lucas came when he heard the news. His eyes were bloodshot as he roared and grabbed my dying body. "Why didn't you tell me? Why are you trying to die alone in secret?" I looked at his unhinged expression, my gaze as gentle as it had always been. There was even a faint mocking smile curling at my lips. "Lucas, I've never loved you. "The one I loved… was actually your twin brother—Derrick."

"There's a foreign object lodged in the patient's lower region. Due to the unique circumstances, we need the patient's next of kin to sign the consent form for an extraction procedure." My body stiffens when I see the name on the consent form. "I'm Renee Becker's next of kin." It's Liam Cassidy who says that. He's the first love of my wife, Renee Becker, who has been away for a month, claiming she's off on a business trip. Liam doesn't recognize me. He takes the pen and signs the consent form. In the section to mark his relationship to the patient, he writes the word "husband". After passing the pen back to me, he grips my hand tightly and beseeches me, "Doctor, you must do everything you can to help her. She's carrying my baby." As I wrench my hand back from him, my wedding ring slips off and falls onto the floor.

Emma Blanton twists her ankle, and my fiance, Matthew Harrison, insists on becoming her personal chauffeur. When I voice my disapproval, he makes an even more outrageous decision. He moves Emma into my apartment at Bellemont District—the apartment I bought with my own money. He argues like he's the victim, "You're being selfish. She's injured, and living alone is too dangerous for her right now. I'm just being a decent human being. "And that place is sitting empty anyway. Having someone there helps with security." On the morning we were supposed to get our marriage certificate, he doesn't show up. I call, expecting apologies. Instead, I hear, "Emma had a fever this morning—101 Fahrenheit. I had to take her to urgent care. We can postpone getting the marriage certificate. Her health can't wait." To hell with postponing! I grab my phone and call David Rockefeller. "Do you want to marry me? Then get to City Hall. I'm serious—right now."

Every tear I shed feeds his ego. Every whimper, his pride. Every bruise he leaves behind, his silent claim over me. He takes me cold. Leaves me ruined. And I wait - quiet, breathless, for the next time he comes back to break me again. He thinks he has me in the palm of his hand. Thinks I’m nothing without him. A fragile wife, meek, obedient. A weakness he never needed. I let him believe it. I never tried to break the illusion. As long as I have his hands on me, As long as his shadows reach for me, That’s enough. But in the dark, daggers roam. And with every sound my heels make, they fall. He still thinks I’m glass, But he hasn’t heard me shatter.