Pocong Novels & Stories

Nobody stands on it during rites. Four hundred years of people learning to fight in this room, and I’m stood on top of the mark they left, doing the same turn six times in a row for a man who is telling everybody watching that my body doesn’t work. “Again.” I dropped my hands. “It doesn’t fucking work for me.” “Because you’re fighting it.” “Because it was designed for somebody who can feel where their wolf is about to put their weight.” His face tightened. Maddox looked at him. “She’s right.”

NOTE: KEEP THE SLIDING PAPER ON THE PAGE. Logan’s brows furrowed and he flipped the next page. More entries and detailed experiences coated the paper and more popped up as she had flipped through the pages. Terra scrunched her eyebrows in concentration as she reached the final page. Covering the next page, a pocket slid up and down the design to keep anyone from seeing it all in one glance. Terra was using this pattern to put people in a coma.

Somehow, Adams had twisted my favorite game into something deadly. Every attempt he made to kill me nibbled at my confidence. Adrenaline made my senses sharper, suppressed the fear and made me faster. I knew he would kill me if he found me. I wouldn't make it out alive. A stone whistled past my ear and struck a pine tree by my left. He had started using the catapult and from the distance and aim, he was good. I zigzagged through tress and a low branch hit my face so hard, my vision blurred a bit. I didn't have time to examine the scratch neither did I have spare energy for that.

Any practice Nya had with weapons was done in secret, usually with Gavin as her sparring partner. Along the back of the stage, his father, Xaver Cross, as well as many other military leaders, such as Rok Phin, who had Nya’s muscles tightening, preparing to run, just from looking at him. His dark eyes landed on her for a moment, and she had to look away.

Both have ageless beauty like him, though human years they would be around their twenties. Thade had his jet black hair tied into a messy man bun. Strong jaw evident with his staple stubble on and bushy brows framing his steel blue eyes. His pale skin radiates against the blank ink on his skin. Being topless is his badge of honor. Showing off an oak tree tattoo from his back that stemmed its withered branches to his arms across his entire upper body. Though it doesn’t drown the presence of his chiseled abs. While he wore the same jet black color of wide legged pants that reached the floor as his bare feet stuck out. All his nails are also painted in black.

𝙰𝚌𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛 7 years old. The brown-haired boy stood there looking at the woman helping her kids choose the toys they wanted. Ace didn't get help from her, he's shy, anxious that she's going to return the ten dollars teddy bear that he brought. His soft small hand clenched the ear of the brown teddy bear, he pouted and with a shaking body, he approached his mother.

Everyone is approaching the ring and we do the same and, pushing and shoving, we manage to get in the front row as many of them are drunk. -WELL! FIRST WE HAVE A TITAN WITH TEN FIGHTS WON AND TWO LOST WILLIAM THE DESTROYER!- he introduces and some boo and others cheer as they watch him climb into the ring. He's almost six feet tall and has a lot of muscle mass so I'm guessing he'll be slower although that's not completely known. He has his hair shaved to one and brown eyes - AND SECOND BUT NOT LESS IMPORTANT WE HAVE A CHAMPION WITH TWENTY FIGHTS WON AND ZERO LOST, THE DEVIL CAMBELL - this time there are very few people booing him and almost everyone cheering him on. As soon as I see him get

It was an online black market. “Good afternoon, Mr. Kalen, welcome to Pandora’s Box, the market for weapons and other military equipment. My name is Echo-11; if you desire, you can change my name to one you prefer.” The A.I continued, as Kalen stared curiously at it. It took the shape of a man in a suit, exactly like the one he was still wearing at that moment.

I take a sip of his coffee with a sigh. He swiftly takes it from me and hands me my mug of anti-murder juice. “You can’t have da alcohol, you. You're supposed to be underage.” “Being underage didn’t stop me back then,” I deadpan. Tee grins. “Me neither.” He pours some of the alcoholic Irish cream into my coffee cup. Jaxson’s company makes this peanut-butter Irish cream, and it’s called Kelpie. Which goes along with his peanut-butter whiskey called Pooka. Both the pooka and the kelpie are horse creatures from Irish folklore.

"We'll see." It took her a minute to remember what it was they were talking about and when she did she ducked her head and went back to eating. The look he gave her left no mistake as to his meaning but she'd been down that slippery slope once already and had no intention on going for another ride. Especially not with someone that looked like him; he was the poster boy for Player's R'Us. No way no how! Besides, they'd only just met a few hours ago. The man was crazy.