Novel & Cerita Lives To Tell The Tale

"You are misinformed but I will tell you a story about life. It is not related to the Nigerian-Biafran war though. I will tell you the story using a poem my father taught me when I was young. The title of the poem is: Tale." Tale I am a dying man with no limbs who has lost his way and compassion I am a workman with a lowly growth who struggles hard everyday to make a reasonable amount of money I am the last of my specie; the most brutal of our kind I am a Nephilim. I am a woman with fiery eyes who likes to sit in the dark and watch men lust after her I am Adaobi's lover and incomplete half with zero feelings and emotions I am the one that makes her enjoy every moment of her life that seems l

I was wondering what was right and I was happy for them no matter what they chose between the two. I glanced again at the woman who spoke when she raised her hand, "we also want change, we realized a lot while we were here, I guess the pack was not bad at all because they have choice killing us in the Coventry but they didn’t, you’re really bad too because you have the right choice to kill us right not but you’re giving us a choice to live and freedom. We love Coventry that is the place where we grew up and that is where we all started our lives before we came to this world. I can't be alone yet so I would rather stay just here and live with your pack."

Even as we left, the smug smile on Joey's face was stuck in my mind. I knew that she was convinced she would live in endless wealth and prestige like I did in my last life, and she would be right. The vampire's castle had more diamonds in there than salt, sparkling with such blinding radiance that I was losing sleep. However, all of that came at a price—my life.

It would be: “To live. To choose. To write your own story.” I closed my eyes, hand over Ronan’s, over our pup. “This time,” I whispered into the dark, more to myself than anyone else, “I’m not just surviving the story. I’m authoring it.” The little heartbeat under my palm kicked once more, like a period at the end of a sentence. Done.

Hard to tell with Knox. “Fine,” he says after a moment. “A story. But if you fall asleep before the end, I’m not repeating it.” “Deal.” He’s quiet for a moment, and I can almost hear him thinking, searching for something to say that isn’t classified information or traumatic backstory. “Once upon a time,” he begins, and his voice has shifted into something lower, softer, almost hypnotic, “there was a wolf who lived alone in a castle made of ice.” “A castle made of ice?” I murmur against his chest. “That sounds uncomfortable.”

Cold words that sounded like ice in the mouth. I’d been staring at them for nights. Turning them over. Thinking about how easy it would be to shift a phrase, blur a line, crop a photo. People don’t need facts. They need a story that tastes right on their tongues. And I could give them one. “Hannah killed her own child,” I said into the phone, savoring the gasp it earned. “She ignored doctors’ orders. She pushed herself too far. I have the records. I have proof.”

“Who would want to leave when here you get clothes to wear, food to fill the stomach and you are not worried whether you will have food for the next day or not? You don’t have to worry about anything here. I have no family, Belle. My parents died when I was nine years old. I have no siblings. I am alone in this world. Before coming here, my life was a mess and I was living in poverty. I hardly had clothes to properly cover me. I hardly earned money to have one loaf of bread for the day.

As Nathaniel said those words my heart started beating wildly. "Have you heard the story about the 'she who cried murder?' " Nathaniel asked. I'm breathing heavily as I look at him in the eyes. "No," I answered casually trying to stay calm. "Well, I'll tell you, it's a story about a girl who killed her own parents, only using a fork. The NBI in that story said that the bodies were chopped. Pretty brutal right?" He looks at me with a smirk on his face.

Wasn't it the time you decided not to live this life like the last? "..... you're right. But how could I be born with a gift so powerful and nobody knows anything about it?" {The answer to that is a tale as old as time, a tale I'm about to tell you}