Marcus Deadly Class Novels & Stories

Marcus took a deep breath and let it out. He tried to communicate calmly with Yale again. “Sir, I’m a thug. I always fight and bully people. I’ve been frequenting prison… But I’ve never thought about dying! I haven’t enjoyed life yet!” Yale’s face sank. “If you replace Zephyr, his life will be yours!” “Damn!” Marcus covered his face, wanting to cry. Had Yale taken too many drugs? Marcus speculated that Phil did not supply Yale drugs but something that made him stupid!

AXEL'S POV "You want one of us to die," I said slowly, making sure I understood correctly. "So you can steal information from the enforcer that kills us." "Not steal but absorb and not permanently die. Just temporarily." Marcus's hands were shaking but his voice was steady. "In that moment between death and erasure, the system is still processing and still connected. I can tap into that connection, pull data directly from the enforcer through the dying person." "That's the stupidest plan I've ever heard," Brady said. "And I've heard a lot of stupid plans."

" No alarms. If the rest of the unit sees Marcus bleeding before the grid is clear, the purists will bolt into the ridge." The lower bypass smelled of old iron and sulfur. Marcus and three of his supply runners had already cleared the first biometric lock when we cut the lights. The dark didn't last three seconds—only long enough for Ezra’s vanguard to drop from the overhead ventilation shafts... It was a slaughter. Marcus was on his back in the shallow water of the drain, his boots kicking uselessly against the rusted grate as I walked up. He had two rounds in his stomach, his hands slick with his own dark blood as he tried to look up at the catwalk.

Pulling the trigger, his body seemed to pause for the smallest moment before plunging to the ground. Thomas's gun went off, killing the other man with a gun. Gray Beard wasn't out in the open like the others, and I couldn't see him. He was the only one I wanted to kill. "Do you smell that?" Thomas whispered. Inhaling, I instantly smelled decay and rot. "Yeah. That's what that guy was talking about. There must be a group of biters coming." Assessing our surroundings, I couldn't see any of the dead yet. The only movement was the man with an arrow in his belly. He was trying to stand with the help of his friend.

For several seconds, I could only stare at Marcus. My mind refused to accept what my eyes were seeing. He was supposed to be dead. Coach Daniels had told me that Marcus Reed had died six months ago in a car accident, and I had believed him because there had never been a reason for me to question it. Yet Marcus was standing in front of me in the underground room, breathing normally, looking at me as if the past seven months had been nothing more than a long game of hide and seek.

Raven said the moment the elevator doors slid open. I frowned. “What is it?” He turned his tablet to face me. The headline read: ‘M Signature Again—Four Found Dead Last Night with the M Boldly Carved on Their Foreheads.’ I felt the rage coil tight in my gut. My fists clenched so hard my nails dug into my palms. What the fuck is going on? “Where’s Luciano?” I barked. “I just checked on him a few minutes ago. He’s still in the dungeon,” Raven replied.

I step out into the drizzle, the air thick and oppressive against my skin. One of the younger warriors stumbles from the second vehicle, clutching his chest before bending forward violently. Blood splatters onto the gravel. My Beta rushes to his side. “Easy. Breathe.” Marcus closes his eyes briefly, inhaling deeply as if testing the air itself. “This is not natural,” he says gravely. “This is dark power.” I look around. There is no visible road ahead. No markers, no direction. Only fog, Dense, Endless, disorienting.

I said, twisting to look at all of them. "Not you, what you present to the public. Eve. She was onto us before she died" "You mean before she was killed" I accused him, spitting in his face. One of the guys slapped me and Marcus held up a hand for him to stop and he wiped the spittle from his face. "Yes it later became necessary to kill her" He said, without feeling any remorse. I realized now how much dangerous Marcus was compared to Wesley. He viewed people as expandable pawns that he could sacrifice at any time.

The sound of his bones snapping was like dry tinder. "You don't understand the geography of this world, Marcus," she whispered, leaning into his face. "You were a small man in a small life, and now you are a small sacrifice." She didn't kill him with a strike. She placed her palm over his heart and siphoned every ounce of vitality he possessed—not just his energy, but his memories, his hate, his very breath. Marcus withered in seconds, turning into a grey, desiccated husk that crumbled into ash before he even hit the floor.

Micardo was waiting for that precise reaction. I was too late. Micardo, agile despite his size, stopped his roll, turned, and fired from a sidearm concealed in his coat. Marcus went down. “Marcus!” I scrambled forward, dropping my own weapon for a second, hooking my hands under his collar and dragging his dead weight back toward the safety of the pillar. Blood immediately began to seep through the dark fabric of his trouser leg, staining the gravel. “I’m fine,” Marcus gritted out, his face pale with pain, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. “Just hurts like a bitch, Lorenzo.”