Penny Dreadfuls Novels & Stories

Penny was said to be human before she got converted by my father’s beta, Xander. “I didn’t hate you, Lena–” “You lie!” I cried out. “That’s a fucking lie from the pit of hell! Didn’t you say you are my mother’s best friend?” “I was-” “Was?” I scoffed in disbelief, trying to make do of what I just heard. “And now that she’s dead, she remains my past,” Penny spoke between gritted teeth, veins pulsating on her head. “And what about me?” I hit my chest, more tears staining my cheeks, my hands trembling against my chest.

Dante placed a hand over his chest with a fake look of pain, "That hurts." She laughed, giving him a middle finger. Dante then glanced behind her and frowned slightly, before looking back at her, "Coffee?" Penny hesitated, “My lunch break is almost over and I have to go back to work.” “What exactly are you doing?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I'm a designer,” she replied calmly, “For Dawnat.” His brows raised, “Oh wow. That's…incredible.” “Yeah. So …what business do you have here?” She asked him back.

I wave a brief good night over my shoulder and continue down the street. A strange intuition gnaws at my gut. I sense that Todd wasn't actually talking about Quirell when he asked if Florence had told me something. Florence had seemed like she was hiding something important, too. I drive back to the estate. As I enter the living room, Penny rises off the couch. Her severely made-up face looks pasty and pale in the light. She is still wearing the thick foam brace around her neck, giving her an absurd, alien-like posture. Irene is standing beside her. "Mom, please . . ." she pleads.

Keller's hungry eyes on her pert bottom. Penny was only eighteen, still at school and only worked for the middle-aged obese Mr. Keller on Saturdays to make a little bit of extra money which she mostly spent on clothes and music. Her father had got her the job with Mr. Keller, a fellow churchgoer and family man, recommending Penny as a hard worker who always had a smile on her face, which was absolutely true. She often felt her smile slipping though when Mr. Keller stood a little too closely behind her or made her bend down in front of him to pick something off the lower shelves in the storeroom at the back of the shop.