Madagascar #dubois Novels & Stories

Phoebe McQueen set her porcelain teacup on its saucer carefully,wiping her lips delicately with a napkin, the gentle clink barely audible above the tea house's ambient music. Across from her, Madame Dubois consulted her leather-bound notebook, occasionally glancing up with knowing eyes. "The Whitmore daughter recently returned from Switzerland," Madame Dubois said, her French accent lending elegance to each word. "Accomplished pianist, speaks four languages, and her father's shipping empire would complement McQueen Industries beautifully."

I nodded shyly as if I agreed with what he had said. He stared at me for a moment and sighed. He lowered the goblet containing an expensive wine that could be equivalent to one month's supply of our food at home. "It's okay if you want to keep your identity. Your name here is Magda? It's cool anyway." he complimented. "You know what, Magda, you have the vibe of a person I've been searching for for so long." he shared. I gulped after hearing it. Is he talking about the person he's been searching for for so long is... me?

“You know those demonic forces that we fight? Well they’ve taken possession of your girlfriend!” Despite the events he had seen, the answer seemed to send Gary into a state of shock. He couldn’t believe what he had just been told. The news showed on his face. David’s seemed to deflate slightly as he realised he had been insensitive. He put his hands on Gary’s shoulders. “I give you my word that I will find a way to remove this creature from her mind. We’re going to get Isabelle back again.” David removed his hands from Gary’s shoulders, and with nothing more to say, walked past the group and towards where the door used to be once more. He paused just before stepping through.

My mind flashes back to the she-wolf i had killed yesterday, then I shake my head, it's not my problem she was an abomination the same with this mutt "What's your name?" "Magmas Diby" "Magmas Diby?" "Yes Magmas after my grandpa and Diby is pronounced as an I, like Deyeby" "Oh, well ok are you hungry Magmas?".

Tomas Midnight struck on the church tower, its solemn chime echoing through the night as I pursued the reckless thief who fucking dared to violate my car, stealing my wallet. His skinny legs drove him ahead of me, but I could taste his fear in the wind as I followed. Behind me, the woman whose purse this asshole stole, sobbed with her kids clutched close to her. He was an amateur criminal and he didn’t know how big of a mistake he’d made.

Even before the large door was opened I could hear the lively music being played. Karis told us that it was called Sega and native to Mauritius. The music was a genre fusion of Seggae and Bhojpuri and sung in Creole. It was an interesting mix of drumbeats and rattle sounds.

Ellie clutched a sodden map, her knuckles white. “Brazil. Scotland. Japan. Egypt. Rome,” she muttered, scanning Voss’s scribbled notes. “They’re waking up everywhere. All at once.” Dr. Voss tightened the ropes of the sail. Her face was pale but determined. “The Chimera was never singular. It was a herald. And heralds are never alone.” Cerebus stood at the bow, fur plastered by rain, three heads scanning the darkness. Alpha was still. Beta watched the horizon. Gamma growled at the storm.

“The old female smells like an ancient forest and cold salt. She is a True Luna.” I kept my face still, but the words made me more careful. Astra did not give praise easily. If she respected Madame Du Bois, then this woman was not only rich or powerful. She had a rank that wolves could feel. Madame Du Bois tapped her cane once against the ground. “You came without Mateo.” “I don’t belong to Mateo,” I said. Her mouth curved slightly. “Good. A woman who lets one man control her will soon have ten men trying to do the same.”

Of course Christopher Henry Jameson—also known as Beast- wasn't the average man. He stood 6'5" and weighed three hundred and two pounds. He didn't like the extra three pounds. He rather liked being in the two hundred weight range even if it was by just one or two pounds. Regardless, there wasn't an ounce of fat on his perfect body. Beast was muscles on top of muscles, yet not hulking like some of the others that worked in the Marine Corps division assigned to The Department of Home Land Security, or better known as DHS. Too big made you slow. He'd seen guys bigger than him hospitalized during the CRUCIBLE training.