No More Dead Dogs Novels & Stories

It laughed so hard that even some of the crying stopped — people freezing mid-sob, stunned by the sheer insanity of the sound. I could feel it vibrating through my chest, every note cutting through my ribs. When it finally stopped, it wiped an invisible tear from the corner of its eye and said, still chuckling, “Have you forgotten?” Its grin twisted. “You’re also dead.” The man’s mouth fell open. “W-what?” he whispered, barely audible. The Game Master leaned down until their foreheads almost touched. “Dead,” it repeated, dragging the word out like a lover’s whisper. “Every single one of you. Including you. You died. You’re not alive.”

"You heard me very well! If you're going to kill me, do it here. And tell your cowardly boss, who couldn't kill me with his own hands, that I'll be waiting for him in Hell." When he heard this, John began to laugh. "Did I say something funny?" I was angry that he was taking everything as a joke. Even the murder of a human. "Actually yes." he continued to laugh. "I didn't come to kill you. I'm coming to walk you around the mansion. As for Richard, he went to ride his favorite horse, Spirit. When he gets home, he does this first." Poor animal, had a terrible owner. "Oh, that means I should feel lucky." I replied irritably.

He stepped back, looking from the blanket to Clarissa. Clarissa grabbed his arm. “It’s none of your business. Just drive.” The guard’s eyes darted to the wrapped figure. “Is someone in there?” Rory panicked. “It’s—it’s a dead dog. This is our dog, she died this evening and it’s so sad. We’re burying her ourselves. We didn’t want to call anyone—” A soft groan escaped from the blanket. They all froze. Clarissa’s face went white. The guard took two steps back, now alarmed. “That’s not a dog.”

I hold onto a bookshelf, my head spinning. "It's a lot to take in," Alice says. "I know." I wipe my brow with the back of my hand. Did I really just accept that I'm a non-human? I laugh, but the sound is hollow. How could I be so stupid? Alice touches my shoulder. "It's okay. I know it's a lot, but you'll get used to it." I'm not sure I want to. "There are more than werewolves, though," she adds. "There are witches, and vampires, and succubi—"

I feel my rage boiling as I stand watching our wolves unload the dead wolves from the APCs and putting them on the funeral pyres. I’m standing on the back veranda, looking down the hill into the empty field that will be used tonight for the funeral services. Two hundred and fifty dead wolves. Two hundred and fifty mates feeling the link sever forever, families torn apart, by what? One asshole’s bigotry? Because one guy didn’t agree with someone else’s life choices, all these wolves died.

“She was just two when the pets began to disappear. Rabbits, cats, songbirds. All vanished. Who would suspect a child? Then at seven, her father gifted her a dog..." He paused, his lips curling slightly. “...and the dog died that night. The maids said they heard it crying. Whimpering. But by morning, E told them it had ‘left.’ Strange, don’t you think? A dead dog, walking out the door?” I swallowed hard. My heart was thudding. “Years later, they found its body buried beneath her window. Bones chewed down to the marrow.” He leaned forward, voice softening. “Then it got worse. E’s best friend came to visit. She never left. Another girl came... and ran out screaming. After that, no one came bac

“Can I go, Daddddddyyyyy? Pleeeeassseee.” “Sure. Just take of yourself.” Calvin kissed her cheek and let her go with Ethlyn. * ‘Alpha, we have bad news.’ Zordan mind linked. ‘We found seven dead bodies of pups who were from our pack with a note from hunters.’ Calvin quickly shifted and reached the place where Zordan found the body. It was a little away from the pack border. He closed his eyes, seeing the head of the pups hanging with one tree and their bodies nailed to another tree.

He doubles over, and I take the opportunity to land an elbow to the back of his neck making him drop to the floor. “Are you ready to die like your friend?” I ask. “Fuck you bitch. You can’t win against our army. Scàthach will triumph and you will all die.” “Ew, can we not do the villain monologue? It’s so annoying and cliché.” I say before I extend my claws and rip his heart out through his back. That was seriously badass and gross, all at the same time. Hey, he’s dead, his friend is dead, and Wyatt is dead. That’s all that matters.

I blinked; after some difficulty, I forced out a few tears and said in a tone of despair, "No need to comfort me. I know the dead can't be brought back. I should wake up after so many days. I won't cling to any more hope." He still wanted to say something when Lambert stepped between us. "We're all grieving at this funeral today, Bethany. I hope you can come out of this stronger." Lambert pulled me further and further away until we lost Sampson's friend. "Almost everyone's here," he whispered. I raised my eyebrow at him. "Get ready for showtime, then." I stepped onto the stage and took the microphone, and announced to the entire pack and the other wolves, "Today is a sad day. Our Alpha has l

She mummbled under her breath and then exclaimed ; "The deathdogs! I am not sure, but I think Mother is using you as bait to lure Jessamy. She wants to kill anyone who could possibly stop her from getting the crown." "What the hell? Deathdogs? Where did she get them?!" I was starting to worry now. One was a problem, but two was almost a certain death sentence. The only creature that does not fear a death dog is a dragon. It was almost like going up against hell hounds. Hell hounds were a certain death, but with dogs of death, you did not stand much more of a chance. The only thing making them less dangerous is that they were visible. Even though you would never wish to see them.