Mort Novel Novels & Stories

"Eve, can you stop being so stubborn? I've apologized, and I'm willing to pay. What more do you want? Will you not let it rest until I'm in prison?" David nodded. "Exactly. The dead can't come back to life. You need to move on. 20 grand is a lot. A life isn't even worth that much in rural areas."

Morrigan can clearly remember the day Colfre first saved her, the first time they met vividly like it just happened yesterday. The memory of that day where she danced with death underwater with the threat of drowning and a perpetrator assassinating her. She can clearly remember how she sank down the deep part of the pool thinking it will be her eternal abyss, where her life will end in that moment not until a young man clad in black jumped in the water and saved her from her almost demise. A young man with ginger hair and bright hazel eyes brought her back to the surface just in time.

he places his hand on his chest, feigning confidence. "Conceded much?" I ask him boldly, cutting his sentence off and leaving my fear in the dust. He chuckles deeply causing my heart to clench, uncomfortably. My father is dead in front of me, a bullet wound to his head and here I am, laughing with a strange, 7-foot man who shouldn't be in my house. "Well baby, I'm death, nice to meet you," I know it was dumb, but I broke into laughter. "Yeah, and I'm Demeter now get out before I call the cops," I glance back over at my father as he lies in a pool of his blood.

["As expected. You crazy Immortal. Be cool, my son is kind of shy." ["Pfft. I notice. And I am always cool."] ["Of course, you are."] ["I felt the sarcasm, idiot."] The door opened and then the three of them entered.

There are faces with Brutal, gashed, and swollen faces; wide gaping mouths, which opened for the last time to utter the death-shriek, and are now fixed forever in rigid agony; jagged, discolored teeth, sunken cheeks, knitted brows, dead, sodden eyes, awful contortions, ghastly smiles, hideous leers, faces of men and faces of women, faces of the young and faces of the old, faces which reek with the slime of years of vice and misery and despair. He pinched his nose when a smell of a decaying body entered his nostril. He walked to the door and tried to open it. It won't budge a bit because it is locked from the outside. He was taken aback when it clicked. "Good afternoon," the embalmer greeted

"Elara, in a situation like last night, the more I protect you, the harsher the gods' punishment will be. You have a mortal body. If they truly decided to inflict a divine punishment, you wouldn't survive..." "Besides, we're about to leave this realm. I don't want any more complications. The child is innocent. Why do you resent her?" "I told you, it wasn't me," I said, my eyes burning. "Hydra's venom corrodes a god's ichor. How could a mortal like me ever get her hands on it?" Aresios seemed taken aback by my fierce reaction. He paused for a moment before softening his tone. "Alright, alright, it doesn't matter now."

; they called it, Kimora was created by them, it came with a price, killing everyone with dark matter and three of the elders died in the process, Kimora was so powerful it did the job but a little too well having a mind of its own the last Elder saw this as a threat had the Kimora gotten rid of and he vanished not to be seen again. That was decades ago. In recent times, Kimora made its appearance just off the coast of the Denezel River. North-West of Maliki, a little boy was found dead, his corpse laid open outside their home,the abomination of nature. His mother who found his body fell into a coma and didn't recover. Kimora was much worse than Black Death. That teaches us that you don't fi

"You need to come. Now." "What's going on?" "It's Alpha Theron," Reece says. "Of the Northern Pack." Cassian goes very still. "What about him?" "He's dead." The words drop like stones into water. "What?" Cassian's voice is deadly quiet. "How?" "No one knows yet. But messengers just arrived. They say..." Reece's eyes flick to me, then back to Cassian. "They say it was unnatural. Some kind of power. Magic."

Four of them total. Three are Silver Hunters, and the fourth ... is Sara Khalek. A gasp flies from my lips, and Davis shifts into his wolf form. "Sara." I rush to her side and feel her cheek. She's cold. She's been dead for many hours, maybe for days. Davis sniffs one of the bodies, his wolf lips curling back. "She put up a good fight." His bass werewolf voice echoes in the small room. I close my eyes against the tears. "Are there any others in here?"

He would rather have Grunt kill him compared to dying at her hands. The man was not Darryl? Morticia did not respond as she sized him up. "Pretty lady!" Morticia's gaze filled Darryl with discomfort. He cracked out a careful smile. "I'm not the Nine Heaven Sage. Grunt lied to you so that you'd be distracted enough for him to escape. "I'm a victim too—" Morticia's expression was icy as she cut him off. "Shut up. And stop calling me that."