It's Been 84 Years Novels & Stories

Diana 84 years. The words hang in the air like smoke after gunfire. The room goes deathly still. Then— A raw, guttural scream tears from Elder Fendel's throat. "Eighty-four YEARS?!" Spittle flies from his lips as he lurches forward, his aged body trembling with rage. "You've been betraying us for decades—before any of us even joined the Council?!" The other Elders recoil, their faces slack with horror. Gasps echo off the stone walls.

She smiles at him, “Thank you, grandpa.” He smirks, “I’m not going to say all those ‘greats’ every time.” He nods chuckling, “I appreciate you trying for me.” He nods, “As to how old you are, you’re three-hundred and eighty-two. I influenced Marla when she chose your birthday, so that it would be correct. It felt wrong for you to not have the right day, but yeah.” Eliza sat back in the chair, letting her head drop back, then looks up at Ash and Kai, who are staring at each other in disbelief.

She closes her eyes slowly, keeps them closed for a moment and then opens them. “How old are you?” She asks again. “Four hundred and sixteen years old.” I tell her. I was sixteen when my father died. This year is the exact four hundredth anniversary of his death. “And Mark?” She asks again. “Mark is four hundred and thirty-two years old.” I tell her. “He is sixteen years older than you are?” She asks. I cannot help but laugh at her. She quickly catches on and a broad smile appears on her face. “I have to admit. When we were only sixteen and thirty-two, it did feel like a vast difference. But after four hundred years it feels like nothing. Age does not matter anymore.” I tell her and start to

The party inside was still going strong. Glasses clinked, laughter echoed, and music played softly under the glow of warm lights. Mr. Charles Hughston stood near the center, holding a glass of champagne as he stepped up for a brief speech. His wife, Mary May, stood proudly beside him. “Sixty years…” Charles began, smiling at the crowd. That’s six decades of life, lessons, love, and this stubborn body that still refuses to give out. Some say life begins at 40—but clearly, 60 is where all the fun is.”

Ashton chuckled. “I guess I did get my temper from her and her red hair. My great-grandpa calls her Cherry and you know he still has that piece of paper till this date.” "Wait, are they still alive?” “Yes, Granpapa is turning 98 this year and Grandmama is turning 96. They met when he was 20 and she was 18. Well, not met; they started dating then. They knew each other their entire lives, but they didn't like each other until that night.”

"You're actually being serious right now." I took another mouthful of my tequila and heaved out a sigh. Brad Rogers was the only person I could trust with this. Not only had he been my chattered adviser for over six years, but he'd also been my best man and confidant. He was a lovable prick, and quite frankly the only person who found my arrogance humorous. So telling my only friend I was about to become a father seemed like news that was best told in person. Over tequila. "Never been more serious."

Marie’s brain completely broke, and now she was totally confused. Angela hopped out of the crowd, placed a red cone on her head, and snapped the strap around her chin. “What’s going on?” Marie asked. “Well, it's our four hundred and tenth birthday, duh,” Valerie said, walking forward. “Wait, we were keeping count?” Marie asked. "No, we weren't, but Angela was able to calculate it a few days ago. And we just had to throw our first birthday party in four hundred and ten years,” Valerie replied.

Wyatt intoned and looking really sad. “Huu! Just four years!” Maya sighed. “You know my age now right? So, add that four years you’re talking about to it. And, also remember that we women use to hit menopause” “Wyatt, if it’s your sister who is currently at this my age, can you advise her to wait for four years while ten years has gone already?” Maya asked and stared at Wyatt with serious look. “Since, you have been unable to do anything to that, let’s get off it. I can’t wait and even I have moved on” Maya added and wanted to walk pass Wyatt.

I said politely as I rose from my seat. The candidate was a young girl and had been turned when she was sixteen, frozen in time at the same maturity level. She was small in stature with strawberry blonde curls and looked more like a doll than a protector and nanny. The girl, wearing heels to appear taller, rose to her full height and extended her hand. “Mr. Steel, thank you for the opportunity, and may I just say that, although I look young, I am over one hundred and fifty years old, having been turned in 1863, during the Civil War.” Yes, she was young. I smiled warmly. “Thank you, Adeline. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Witches always have a knack for getting what they want. He tilts his head and squints, "What? Today?" "No. The dream." Joaquin clicks his tongue, pretending to think. What year did the siren-slaying happen? "1870–something." He pops his lips playfully and then smirks. "1876. It's the siren this time."