Mort Madagascar Novels & Stories

Chapter 22 Malachi, for the first time, felt a flicker of doubt, a sliver of fear worming its way into his consciousness. But he was not one to be easily defeated. With a final roar of defiance, he retreated into the shadows, vowing to return with even greater malevolence. The realm breathed a collective sigh of relief, their faith in the fated mates restored. Though victory was not yet theirs, the fated mates had proven that love was a force to be reckoned with—a force that could withstand even the darkest of challenges.

So in answer to my mom’s question, I told her all she needed to know. “Madre, she’s my mate and you cannot blame me, but the moon goddess. I realised the very first day I returned and you won’t hold any grudges against Mia because she’d been against this but I can’t let her go. You know this, Mi Amore,” I said in a calm voice, staring my mom in the eyes.

Like a stick. Turning around, Madeline saw two men in black suits. It was like they were businessmen. From a big, expensive company. Like sales. She knew what sales is. It's like selling things, sometimes yummy things. Or sometimes just things. Things you can't eat. Madie stared at both of them, and looking around, she also noticed the three black cars surrounding the park. It was easy to spot them; they all looked the same. She looked back at the two men and turned her body to face them.

Before I could turn towards his direction, the voice of the lady I now know her name to be Matilda, suddenly interrupted me. "Oh dear, my apologies." She said sweetly, stepping forward. "Didn't realize I was making you uncomfortable." I could now clearly see her face as she turned directly to me. She was pretty, like, badass pretty. Her loose black cargo pants hung low on her hips, chains clinking with every movement. A cropped band tee clung to her, showing the glint of a silver bar through her navel. Her blonde hair was messy, choppy cut — on purpose — and her ears was lined with tiny hoops and spikes climbing all the way up to the cartilage. Her tats crawled along her bare arms, disappear

Donning the nose mask over my face, I strolled behind Aiden as he clicked the bathroom door open and walked in. A strong, pungent, irritating smell of formaldehyde fills my nostrils. “Fuck,” I cursed softly under my breath. Despite wearing the nose mask, I could perceive the stench so strongly. It made me wonder how Aiden was coping at all without the nose mask. The smell became the least of my worries when I spotted Mr. Higgins, my previous neighbor's dead body, afloat in the bathtub. His body was leaned back against the tub, head raised high as if looking at something, but the irony of it all was that both his eyes were plucked out.

Wade Carter, Jasmine Cole's male best friend, was a useless bum who couldn't muster the guts to kill even a single, regular zombie even though it'd been three years since the apocalypse. However, he was now ordering me around like he was a king. I heard his voice coming from the military-grade walkie-talkie as he arrogantly said, "Don't just stand there, Jason! You heard Jasmine! Move it! Run right to the eastern ruins and distract the Tier Six zombies! "You'll never hear the end of it if they scratch the vehicle's bulletproof glass and get in my way of going to the inner city!" The b*stards were yelling at me from the safety of the vehicle. The zombie virus was quickly spreading through my

He pried her fingers away from him and stated plainly, “She has been with me for many years. Even a dog is still worthy enough of emotional attachment.” Clarice stumbled backward. Her makeup was smudged with tears. "You'll regret this…” The black Maybach sped away. Clarice's figure began to shrink in the rearview mirror until it vanished into the nighttime horizon. Arthur rolled down the car window to let the cold wind rush in, and yet, it was not enough to tune out the chaotic voices in his head. He received a few more texts from his assistant. “Mr. Renault, we found out that Miss Buccaneer contacted a company specializing in cultural activities in a neighboring city. They refused to disclo

Madock stopped her first. “I know you’re his wife, but he’s in a dangerous trance. He could kill everything around him, and he’s holding a weapon. So don’t touch him,” Madock warned seriously. “Let me go! He needs to wake up or we’re going to die!” Molly insisted, trying to break free. “We’re going to die anyway here, girl,” Madock replied, his voice heavy. “And one of them is from the stench of the dead...” Lisaura commented, horrified as she saw a decaying body. She ran to vomit in a corner of the room, followed by Molly, who also couldn’t handle the smell.

However, he has trained with the beast for five whole years and was bound to get all his skills, but there was this MOLART's skill he did not possess. Everyone knew MOLART has a unique skill he used against his enemies; the skill is called Jamba. It kills in three minutes. According to my father, that skill cuts every vein and artery in the body and the person will not know for exactly three minutes, then they would crumble and die. I did not think MOLART taught him that skill, because if he did, I knew Khalid would use it on everyone and he would use it on me.

There was no way in hell she could survive in the woods alone for two weeks much less three months. "Cory, I forbid you from saying such foolishness. That omega slut is dead, Adam and Gary made sure of that," Magda snarled. She felt a fierce anger inside her, knowing there was a slight chance that the little bitch might still be alive. Cockroaches were hard things to kill. "Believe what you must do to help you sleep better at nights," Cory sighed, getting up from the chair and kissing his mother. “I'll see you at dinner.”