Last Resort Novels & Stories

INNOCENT May 19, 2021 GABBY [Gabriel Morales | 28] I feel like I am currently the most hapless man in the world. I chose to come along because I thought I would have a relaxing vacation with my long time friends. And also because of the coincidence that our reunion’s settled date is fit exactly on my return. So I thought everything was going to be smoothly perfect. But look at what's currently happening to us. Everything turned the opposite of what we expected. Everything became a disaster, and we’re even leaving already. Then after a while we’ll go home with disappointment and regrets for even wanting to go here in the first place. It was the worst decision we ever made.

He laughed at his own selfishness and the reckless way he'd pushed himself into a dead end. In the end, regret was the only thing he managed to hold onto. "Other than the house I'm living in, transfer everything else to her." He knew I no longer needed the love that had come too late. The only thing he could still give me was everything except that. Meanwhile, on a beach in the Maldivis, I floated peacefully on an inflatable raft beneath the sun. A notification suddenly appeared on my phone. A large transfer had been deposited into my account. Smiling, I turned off the screen, then I tossed the phone into the ocean.

The struggles and sorrows of that other life were finally sealed away—gently, tenderly, by the hands of time. -THE END-

He asked. "Yes, boss" the person on the other end answered. "Did you send the letters?" The hood man asked. "Yes boss" "Wait for my next signal before you send the next one. Kill them both when the last package is sent". "Yes boss I understand " "Good" and the call was disconnected. ~~ "Were you in a call?" Drizzy asked walking toward Ethan. "Ahh, yes it was the event planner" "Oh okay, how is the preparation going?" "Good. And how was your shopping. Did you buy everything you needed?".

“Seb, found something, but more likely a dead-end. The rental car was abandon at the gas station 10 miles away from Night Stalker. The company will send me a copy of the GPS he used. We can find out the last place he went before he abandoned it.” I nod and slump my body to my couch. I remember this couch where we cuddled after the hot sex. We watched movies with ice cream and then made out. Please, baby, hang on there. I’m coming to get you. I pray over and over again, I prop my elbows on my knees and cup my face. I ask myself why this has to happen to me and Abby? My phone rings in my pocket, and it’s Mike. “Mike, still no updates. We are still gathering information. I can’t tell you anythi

“I’m going to die again.” “Yes, Host. This is your last chance, but since all your wishes except the first were made for others, you are granted a special permission—this final wish has no restrictions. The last wish would definitely come true, but you yourself would not be able to revive again.” The System hesitated for a long time before speaking. “Host, I suggest you consider wishing to go to another world and start a new life, or perhaps—” It rambled on, truly caring about me.

But honestly, I didn't care about the watch he promised me anymore. That night, I drew another sunflower on the back of the application. Eight days left. - On the third morning, the liaison from the home office delivered my ticket. My departure was right on schedule. I had officially resigned. Mr. Hall must've already spoken to the supervisor, so everything went smoothly. As I was packing up and carrying my box out, I overheard two operators gossiping in the hallway. "Did you hear? Commander Samson wants his childhood sweetheart to work at the station."

[Didn't get to say this earlier, but I'm out of forgiveness cards. [Let's get a divorce.] My phone started blowing up right after.

Go to him and then when you've fixed whatever issues you have, you come back. A sigh of relief escaped from me and I hoped he had not heard that. I was surprised at how much I didn't want any of it to end realizing that I was okay with the different shades of treatment he dished out to me. "Sure." I replied immediately. "Thank you, Christian." "It's nothing." He said. "He's your best friend and only real family. When all this is over, he's the only one you are going to have. You don't want to lose that.'

And then, at the very end of the last email, was a single line that sent a chill down my spine: “It is imperative that I find this relic before anyone else. Absolutely imperative.”