Old Miles Morales Novels & Stories

He's dead. "Colfre?" Morrigan's voice came out of her in a squeak as she realized that the man she was expecting to come back to her was nothing but a cold body. That he will come back to her nothing but a corpse that she will offer an honorary burial. Her sobs slowly rise to her throat as tears streamed down her face unceasingly. Touching the face of the man she loves, looking at his beautiful yet lifeless eyes. "You promised me... You promised me that you will come back to me. Colfre... Why?" Her voice croaks as she combed his hair with her fingers. "Colfre..." She calls him but there was no reply. She hates death the most, she hates how it takes everything away from her. She hates how it

“Face the truth for myself?” With that comment, Miller lowered his head and stepped to the side. Just behind him, another figure stood up from the crowd surrounding the fire and ambled toward them. He was significantly taller and looked older than most of them, but no better dressed. Unlike anyone else, he was displaying a rather arrogant smile as he approached the entourage. “Morales. I don’t believe we’re expecting your group back so soon,” he stated, outstretching his arms carelessly. “If everyone under my lead was just as sad and pitiful as you then how do you think that would reflect upon me?”

“Are you alright?” He wanted to scoff. In fact, he almost did, right in the officer’s face. His sarcastic smirk made up for his timid whisper, “Do I look alright, Ma’am?”. “You destroyed my son,” Ms. Morales cut back, as if it was justification for Miles’s state. “Your son destroyed himself.” “You tyrant! I don’t even recognize him anymore! You have no idea what he’s been through. How could you do that to him?” “Ms. Morales--” the officer tried to cut in, but Miles overtook her voice.

My voice is dry. “Agent Morales,” he repeats, his tone icy. “Where is he?” “I…” I hesitate. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He nods. “Right.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, clear plastic bag. Inside is a phone—a burnt phone. He places it on the table, and the moment I recognize it, I freeze. It’s Morales’s phone. ##########

He kept replying to someone's messages while I scrolled through the wedding-dress photos my father had sent me. Just then, he blurted out, "Stop the car." I turned, puzzled. He smoothly hid his phone and said shortly, "Something's come up. I need to make a trip to the south side of the city. Ms. Graf, you should take a cab back." Rivergate was being hammered by heavy rain, and it was around 4 to 5 a.m. right now. The streets were absolutely desolate. I opened my mouth to refuse, but Elliot had already opened the door and shoved me outside.

Her mother’s blood splashed on his face and I saw his eyes open wide without any emotion and I knew that day another cold-blooded monster was born. “It is painful to see your parents die in front of you,” Veronica told Olson and Olson looked at her face to face without any tears or fear. “That is what I felt when I saw my dad kill himself in front of me… because of your parents” She added and she pointed the gun to Olson and she whispered with a smile “Your next” I closed my eyes because I don’t want to see her shoot Olson but the door suddenly opens and it is the police. Veronica still shot Olson but luckily she only shot Olson’s back and the police shot her and her boyfriend and at that mo

Abel calmly elaborated. "Says a guy who single-handedly took out a whole army of rebels in Congolese 10 years ago", Jenny replied with a little chuckle. "Abel Mordecai Oliz, 35 years of Age. Ex-Mercenary going with the disguise name The Merc and later joined the CIA. But resigned 5 years ago. Favorite color is blue. Lost both wife and daughter right before his eyes in the bus taking them to the airport for a planned vacation at Hawaii. Still haven't had his revenge, because he is yet to figure out who is behind the Assassination." Jenny elaborated with a stern gaze.