Humanity Lost Graphic Novels & Stories

He sighed. *sigh* And raised a hand to massage his temples. "A class 4 dark artifact…" He mumbled, and Director Bones asked about it. "What is it?" "The Mirror of Erised. Is an artifact that shows in its reflection the deepest desire that the person looking at has. Until here there would be no problems, but the mirror entrances the user and viewer to continue looking at its reflection and do nothing more. This mirror killed a lot of people by starvation simply by showing them their deepest desire being realised."

***** ‘’Elementals, what caused your wonderful presence? Sarcasm lingered in the air as his eyes pierced the rouge, mutated, disgusting bustards. The things eye bloodshot, skin a horrible shade of grey that bordered black and unlike classic vamp fangs it containing slimy tactical. Holding back a new rush of nausea and other obscenities he cleared his thoughts and continued to presume a neutral expression. ‘’Humans are disappearing at an alarming rate and know the rejected have something to do with this.’’ The thing laughs clearly amused the ratchet stench burning what is left of any trace of patients Kade possess.

“You can come next week for the rest.” Hunter grabbed the man by his shirt and pulled him. He lifted him up and gave him the devil’s stare. The man had known he was facing death in its eyes. “Please Hunter.” “Give me one reason I shouldn’t break your bones now.” “Please, I have a family.” “Is that a reason?” “I know something you might be interested in.” “What could that be?” “I know you escaped from Zambia.” “So?” “There’s a rumor circling around that there is manuscript about the Hamuumbu’s.”

Melnyk, Richard and Zafira had tirelessly struggled to come up with a plan to finish the humans. They hoped and prayed that the humans will be confident enough to come out and fight them in the open field, but unfortunately, their wish never saw the light of the day. They had situated spies almost everywhere in the kingdom of Helores, they had planned almost everything diligently, from provoking the humans by killing their species down to provoking them with a letter requesting for them to leave the city of Helores as they threatened the humans with war.

After five years of marriage, Gabrielle Jamison stumbles upon her husband, Morgan Quilton, with his mistress. He's even brought their son, Casper Quilton, with him. Casper pretends not to know her, and Morgan doesn't even bother to hide his contempt. Gabrielle looks around at the room full of impeccably dressed guests. She twists the hem of her wrinkled shirt, then looks at her own haggard reflection in the mirror. The brilliant golden girl she used to be is gone without a trace. In that instant, she loses all hope in Morgan and Casper. So, when Morgan tells her he wants a divorce, she quietly says yes. From then on, every outrageous demand from his side of the family gets a hard no. Si

Hope looked at the creature. “You’re wrong.” The creature tilted its head. “About what?” “Fear isn’t the opposite of love.” The creature went silent. “Fear exists because we have something to lose.” Hope took Adrian’s hand. “And love teaches us that losing something doesn’t make it meaningless.” The creature’s form began flickering. “No.” Hope continued. “You don’t understand humanity.” “I understand humanity better than you.” “You understand their fear.” She pointed at him. “But you don’t understand their ability to continue.”

Mother Zero gave her one final smile. “He chose whether humanity should live.” Her image vanished. Then the answer appeared. TRIAL TWO: HUMANITY WILL CHOOSE WHETHER LUCAS SHOULD.

Nyx couldn't sleep. The drawing of the Skinwalker from Corvus's research haunted her—a crude sketch rendered in brown ink that had faded to sepia over centuries. The figure was hunched, its limbs too long, its face a featureless void with hollow eyes that seemed to follow her even when she turned away. Abomination had been scratched beneath it in a spidery hand, the word carved into the parchment with enough pressure to leave grooves. Someone had watched the genocide of her kind and chosen that word. Someone had documented their destruction with clinical precision and called them abominations.

I pulled an unmarked folder free from the furthest corner, and a wave unease crashed over me. This wasn’t just paper and ink, I could feel the malice vibrating in my nerves. It was a record of lives stolen, futures erased. Grainy and stark photographs showed small, cold forms wrapped in lace, newborn pups whose eyes would never see daylight again. Beside them, names, dates, clinical notes, all of it a catalog of cruelty. ‘Subject 402: Discarded. Essence insufficient for the ritual.’ Zebub’s unmistakable elegant, looping, precise handwriting detailed a massacre.

"Lost blood? Where are we going to find that?" "It's not that, it's a her. Tonight, call a meeting with the other pack members. For us to be able to live the way we want and also to be able to shapeshift to a wolf even when it's bright, we need to sacrifice the lost blood" he spoke softly, looking around. "Yes Alpha" Dean bowed his head. Elon came across a bar. He stared at it, wanting to go back inside. "Let's go back to the mansion" he said.