Live Wire Novels & Stories

ALL. And there, behind the door with drapes drawn to prevent the incurs of the sun during the day- Just like a vamp will do, a small, portable plasma TV hung to the thinned walls, a stein with red, small cheap wine filled the air and a few inches from the cold dark walls, the soft thud of her heart reminded her that she was living as she lay on her single bed, curled up from the world outside and only peeking to know what was going out there through her TV. Life hadn't been always bad, in fact, it looked like it'd stored up the bad moments like filling up a trash bag only to let all the scum out at once.

However, after that everything happened so fast. Another man beside the sofa slashed the blade he was carrying into Mrs. Maya’s right hand. Nadira gasped and so did the injured person. The red bloody wound looked deep and painful, but Mrs. Maya tried to endure it. The white skin of the woman grew pale. “If you say that again, you will die,” the man with the deep voice sneered. “Besides, I know you're lying. One of my men made the mistake of saying that someone would be tasked with taking the wolvire’s stuff to the hideout. We killed that guy, not knowing that it was you who was actually assigned. Is that right, Maya the Right Hand of INDICENT?"

I stood up and walked over to the computer, booting up the livestreaming service. I took a deep breath before I started the livestream. The number of viewers immediately shot up to one million. Countless comments flooded the livestream, criticizing me. "Finally found the guts to start livestreaming again, huh?" "Did you know that someone taught your mother a lesson today? She got what she deserved." "That woman posted another video today. She said it'll be all your fault if she can't find her son in this lifetime." "You cold-blooded mutt! Get out of the livestreaming scene!"

"No heat. No fridge. No stove." "We have shelter. We have walls." "Walls that Lysander says are a fire trap." Cale opened his eyes. He looked at the ceiling. He looked at the exposed beams. "He was lying about the wiring," Cale said. "To hurt you." "Was he?" Cale scanned the room. His vision was grey-scale, but his perception of structure was intact. "The wiring is old," Cale admitted. "Knob and tube. Insulation is degrading."

"I'll get going, Hana. Its getting late. Its nice to see you again. Let's have dinner next time?" "Of course. A safe drive home." I then turned curiously at Eros. "Is he okay with me living here?" "Yeah. But everything got a bit complicated since he technically owns this house." He smiled sheepishly at me and my gut tells me something big is coming. "What is it?" I hope I don't regret asking this question. "Good news is he waived our rent for the house..." He paused before dropping the bomb on me. "Bad news is I kinda told him that we're together." "WHAT!"

The metal utensil seemed to stick to his fingers, held there by a faint magnetic pull rather than friction. Every time he took a bite, the lights above the island flickered. Blink. Buzz. Blink. "The wiring in this house is getting old," Damian said, not looking up from his newspaper. He was lying. The house was renovated three years ago. The wiring was state-of-the-art. "We should call an electrician," I said, playing along. "I'll put it on the list," Damian replied. We were protecting Leo from the truth of his own volatility. We were pretending that the

A detailed document popped up in another tab and my eyes skimmed through the page, landing on what I was looking for. "It does", I breathed, barely able to speak now from the pain. "Apparently, there's a wire at the back of their neck base. If we can cut the wire, the bot is rendered incapable". "That's surprisingly easy", Vivo put in, sounding gruffly sexy. "Any other thing on there?", Claude dismissed Vivo's statement, addressing me with another question instead. "Yes", I responded by luck. My eyes blurred as I tried to make out the letters and my gums began to throb.

The paranoid empire-builder died in that moment, replaced by a woman fighting for the only thing that actually mattered. Elara dropped to her knees, using her tactical knife to pry the heavy steel grating off the floor. Beneath it lay a massive, glowing bundle of high-voltage fiber-optic and copper trunk lines. She reached in with her bare, uninjured hand, ignoring the warning labels and the intense heat radiating from the cables. Gritting her teeth against the impending shock, she wrapped her fingers around the primary main-line, braced her boots against the console, and violently ripped the cables from their housing.

A dead spider lands on a street name. Sami studies it. "Spider knows route." "Spider is retired." Behind the panel, a black radio unit sits bolted to the frame. Its label has worn down to a few letters and an old blue bird mark. Leo clicks once. "Blue wire. Gray wire. Do not cut red." Sarah looks at the wires. "Too theatrical." "It is old fleet wiring." "Old people were dramatic." She strips the blue wire with her teeth. Nadia says, "Septic."

Vivienne walked toward the still-crackling backup communications unit. She pulled a tactical dagger from the console. With a flick of her wrist, she reversed the blade. And drove it straight into the core module of the communicator. The blade pierced the motherboard, severing backup power lines. Sparks burst outward. The safehouse fell into silence. The red alarm light continued its mechanical strobe. In the dead corner of darkness, Alexander remained hidden in shadow. Vivienne withdrew the blade and flicked off the oil from its edge. Five seconds after she left the protection of his mutated heat field—