Neal Stephenson Novels & Stories

Sweet, perfect Rosealba. Stephanie’s smile soured. A stain. A parasite. A soft thing pretending to be strong. “I’ll peel the sweetness from your skin,” Stephanie whispered, setting the glass down. Her fingers flexed against the wood, nails digging slightly. “Piece by piece. Until Alactor Merikh forgets your name. Until your ghost stops haunting his eyes. Until he is completely mine.” She turned from the mirror, the silk of her robe brushing against her ankles like a shadow that moved with her.

My wealth began to snowball, growing rapidly. … One year later. On an ordinary afternoon, I drove aimlessly through the city. By some twist of fate, I returned to that familiar intersection. I did not get out. I parked, peering through the tinted windows, quietly observing. Cars streamed by as crowds surged past. Students in uniforms walked across the crosswalk, laughing and teasing in small groups. Sunlight spilled over their young faces, filling them with hope and dreams for the future. I suddenly understood that the one who died in prison in my previous life was not truly my past self.

If he couldn't give me that, he shouldn't take away my money. He didn't argue. Instead, he gripped my hand tighter and said softly, "I can give it to you... whatever you want." I yanked my hand away from his, a cold smile on my lips. "You don't want me working, do you? It's because you've made Crystal the spokesperson for the New Year's product line, isn't it? You really think I don't have my sources at the company? Do you have any idea how much penalty fees my department is going to face because of this?"

Neil had endured so much without even knowing the full extent of Roy’s control over his life. Indeed, everything was orchestrated by Roy to gain control over Neil. I hadn't realized that the identity of Neil Caster was also fabricated by Roy. I initially thought there might have been an overlap between Neil Wesley and Neil Caster, but it became clear that while Neil Wesley still existed, Neil Caster, though present, had no true identity. Could it be that the resurrection ritual gave this child, originally known as "Little None," a new identity as Neil? Did my decision alter the fate of Little None?

Some twisted part of me wants the proof that we’re still breathing, still tangled, even as the clock bleeds out. He stands fast, yanking his sweats back up, not bothering with a shirt. The muscles across his back flex and roll like he’s about to tear the house apart board by board. He grabs the laptop, flips it open, stares at the screen like it owes him blood. “The feed’s still live,” he mutters. “Red light on the bookshelf. Spine of The Intelligent Investor. Fucking poetic.”

He asked curiously. Stephan laughed for a while as he dropped his bag by a corner. “Well, let’s just say I found my spec in him and I just found out that Omar is my next door neighbor. I don’t want to waste time; he is too cute to be waiting.” Stephan replied. Nelson smiled and nodded his head. “I knew something fishy was about to happen since the first day he splashed drink on you.” Nelson said. “Come on, you watch too much series, guy. Just help me with these papers for presentation.” Stephan said, trying to avoid the conversation…

I owed him more than just vows. And yet… there was still something missing. Something I couldn’t explain or name—just a quiet, persistent emptiness I hadn’t been able to shake. “A marriage that can fall apart because of me was already falling apart long before I showed up.” And just like that my appetite vanished and I wasn't eating anymore. Took slow sips of wine, mindlessly pushing food around with my fork, the tension crawling back in. “Let’s go to my place.” Was this happening again? Was I really about to step back into the same fire I swore I’d never touch twice?He was my stepson.

I was locked away like a secret no one could find. He stepped closer and gently grabbed my hand. And just like that... I froze. I felt it. The shift. The prickle at the back of my neck. I turned my head and my breath caught. Stephen stood at the end of the hall, his eyes locked on mine, seething. The fire in them promised destruction. I had crossed a line. And this time... I wouldn’t walk away unscathed. ********** AUTHOR’S NOTE To every reader who has journeyed with me through Selena’s story thank you from the depths of my heart. Your time, emotions, and imagination are the greatest gifts a writer could ask for.

“I underestimated you, Stephanie. I never thought you would plan something like this with the director. I really underestimated you.” Stephanie threw her head back, a sharp laugh tearing through the woods. It was a sound of pure delight. "The Director? Oh, Nilah, you still think so small. You were always the 'brilliant' one, the researcher, the pride of the lineage, and yet you’re lying in the dirt like a discarded dog."

He kept telling himself. After some hours, they finally stepped foot into the Crescent pack. Uncle Bob and Mr Samuel's teeth clenched. The smell of wolves only reminded them of the death of Eleanor's mother. The only thing that crossed their mind was to end them all at once. "Let's go." Detective Rob told them after they looked around a bit. The smell of wolves drifted into their nostrils. What annoyed uncle Bob the most was how they lived their lives as if they deserved to live when they were only monsters that deserved to be wiped out from the face of the Earth.