No More Dead Dogs Novels & Stories

If he does, he’s never used it, but I can imagine the doctor coming over the PA system and saying, “Excuse me, everyone, may I have your attention please? I’m here to tell you that the big nosed Breeder with the giant stomach is dead. Since no one likes her anyway, we will just dump her body in the lagoon out behind the castle where all of the wastewater goes. She will be floating with shit. Now, go on about your business.” I laugh to myself, and when my new maid, I-Don’t-Fucking-Give-A-Shit-What-Her-Name-Is, or Idfgaswhni for short, gives me a strange look. I glare at her. She cowers immediately, ducking her head. A hard knock on my door has me startled at first, but then delighted, as I im

Axel’s trembling finger tapped the audio file from Marco. Aria’s voice, calm and full of despair, filled the silence. “My name is Aria Sterling. If you’re hearing this, it means I’m already dead.” Every word was a hot brand on his soul. “Six years ago, Axel Thorne did not die. The yacht explosion was a hoax, a plan he designed to make a secret deal with a rival family…” There was no anger in her voice. Just the dead calm of a still lake.

A woman on the sidewalk cried out as she recogonized her daughter who had been eliminated two years ago. When the video ended, Higher Up #1 was dead, a bullet straight between his eyes. He was slouched over, not moving, the person next to him squirming to be free. "If you still have compassion for these monster tyrants, how about the times when they used the tax money for whatever the hell they wanted?" she asked, and papers fluttered from the sky, each person grabbing one and reading through it. Cries out outrage rang out, and it was silenced when the sound of the gun was heard. Another body dropped to the ground, and Astra wrinkled her nose in disgust.

They carefully pile up some fingers to send to the gambling dens until Mick growls, signaling everyone to back off. I wasn’t sure how the bastard was still alive, his heart was barely recognizable. Mick trots to him, staring down into his bleak eyes. He’s on his back now, his guts exposed. A quick swipe across his face with a claw draws blood, coating Mick’s paw. I had no idea what I thought I’d feel at this moment. But I just feel dead. Because there are so many more Stephen Millers in the world. It’ll never be enough. Mick growls so loud, it practically shakes the room. He bares his canines, wanting them to be the last thing this piece of shit sees.

Councilman Mitch walked inside the cage and looked at a dead Jared in a pool of his own blood. “I will always follow the rules.” I wasn’t sure what I needed to say. Everything sounded wrong anymore and I was feeling like there was a double meaning to everything he said now. “I have no doubt about that! Looks like this was an easy kill for you.” “Very, he was pathetic and I had a lot of built up resentment towards him I needed to let out. He died before I was fully satisfied but whatever. Losing the Alpha title really does a number on a person’s body and to their wolf.” I said matter-of-factly.

The Federation had no success at taking much less keeping one alive and whenever they tried, humans died. Six months before the end of the war-maybe I should call it the first war since the hounds are returning-a hellhound broke into the underground compound where I worked. It killed twenty-three people. Twenty-one of them were heavily armed. Three of my co-workers and I made it to a reinforced steel closet and closed the door with the hellhound inches from destroying us. I've had nightmares about them ever since. Now King is saying he can take me to see a hellhound.

And now, as Damon took a closer look at the five dead men, each man had letters branded on his forehead, R, I, MA, T, and UM. "Rape, Incest, Mate Abuse, Treachery, and Undeserved Murder." Holy shit. Damon was suddenly happy to be alive and unmarked; Karistus was BADASS. Of the thirteen wolves that had accompanied him on his run, five wolves were now dead, seven remained unconscious, but living and one had ascended to something different entirely. "Where is she heading now?" Knox looked off into the distance, noticing the weather changing as judgment roamed the earth once more.

Their scythes cut into the Council dogs like butter and the streets ran crimson with undead blood. How do creatures that are not alive bleed? She wondered briefly but if only that was her biggest problem. The four soldiers of the Wild Hunt made hoots of victory as the last of the Council dogs fell to their blades and Freya wished she could scrape their noise from the inside of her head. Finally, the Councils dogs lay unmoving in the deserted street and for a moment she thought that perhaps it was a good thing that she had found the ultimate soldiers, that they were on her side.

Marilyn was angry and heartbroken. “Do you hear that? Shantal doesn’t care about you anymore. Your sad story trick might have worked before, but she doesn’t love you anymore. Shantal won’t blink even if you die.” Ullysis leaned against the headboard, his gaze lowered. He remained silent. In the end... she was still gone. She no longer felt anything for him. But at least she was still alive. While she was alive, he could hear her voice. Even if it was cold and emotionless, it was much better than that frozen, empty corpse in his dream. Thinking back to that bone-numbing dream from when he’d been unconscious, Ullysis’s eyes instantly turned red.

On my seventh day in Snowcall, one of my friends, Lucas Freeman, called me out of the blue. "Miranda, when are you coming back?" "I'm not planning to anytime soon," I replied. "Norton's birthday is next week. You're not going to come celebrate?" "I'll pass, but I'll send something." The conversation went quiet, and I could hear Lucas awkwardly passing the phone to someone else. "Maybe you should try talking to Miranda. She usually listens to you," he said.