Pretty Much Dead Already Walking Dead Novels & Stories

I don’t know why, but something is rotten in my gut and it’s never wrong. We storm through the building, Roddy’s being the last room at the end of the long ass hallway. The door is locked and Grouch sticks his ear to it, then backs up and kicks it open. The immediate stench of death I know all too well hits my nose and I can’t believe nobody has noticed it. It’s at least fifteen doors from mine. Missile and Grouch storm in, but I can already see the lifeless body of Ryan “Roddy” Grimes on the bed. I step in the room and see a needle sticking right out of his fucking arm. His skin is already discolored, he’s been dead a couple days. And nobody even realized it. Some brotherhood we are.

"Hardly! I've already contacted the Captain through our mental bond—he's sending men over as we speak." I grinned at the beta's efficiency. "You're truly an excellent beta; I hope your Alpha recognizes your worth," I complimented him. He beamed, clearly pleased by my words. Suddenly, my nose wrinkled, detecting the unmistakable stench of death. Where was it emanating from? The beta noticed too, his expression turning grim. "Day walkers," he whispered urgently. We tracked the foul odor to the old man's house, where we discovered a couple of Day Walking Vampires siphoning the lifeblood from the unfortunate elder.

I stopped walking. My entire body went still. Shock rooted me in place. The scene before us looked less like a fight. And more like a massacre. Bodies littered the ground. Seven. No. Eight. All vampires. All dead. The first lay crumpled against a container wall. A wooden stake protruded from his chest. Directly through the heart. The second had suffered the same fate. The third was missing its head entirely. I stared. Unable to process what I was seeing.

Carl, without allowing me to rise, asked flatly, "Why did you take two hours when it only takes half an hour to walk from the dungeon? Did you have no desire to attend the birthday celebration for my Luna?" I didn't try to defend myself. It was extremely cold and damp in the dungeon during winter, so my legs had long been frostbitten and infected, leaving me barely able to walk. I merely bowed my head and apologized obediently. Carl seemed slightly taken aback before letting out a mocking laugh. "You have become considerably more docile now, Aria."

It was William, the Alpha from the Ice Plains Pack, standing behind me. His voice was filled with sorrow, "When you sent him to the Ice Plains, I knew he died painfully. But I didn’t expect... A ten-year-old cub, betrayed by his pack, mauled by lone wolves, abandoned by his father... and forced to watch himself bleed to death." Andrew's final memories were of waiting for death. Even if I had reached him in time, I wouldn’t have been able to save him because the only crystal healing chamber had been taken over by Lucas.

He stumbled back against me, his left arm hanging completely limp, a deep, terrifying river of dark crimson pouring from the jagged exit wound, soaking through his skin and dripping heavily onto the floor. "I'm fine," he ground out through a clenched jaw, his face turning an ashen, deathly pale color within seconds. "Keep moving. There are more of them downstairs." The sound of heavy, tactical boots echoed from the main entrance. They were hunting us. They were tracking the blood. I grabbed Malakai around his waist, supporting his massive weight as we scrambled down the dark corridor. Every single light in the apartment had died, plunging the fortress into a pitch-black labyrinth illuminated

Where did the gun come from? Dad rubbed his nose and explained, "I accepted another mission to kill zombies right before I came to deal with them." Everything made sense now. The world began to collapse once the four female leads were dead. Dad and I returned to our original world. He decided to take me to see Grandma. We had just stepped out of the house when we ran into the system, who seemed to have been waiting for a long time. The system stuck to us like glue, explaining that the main system fired her after the world collapsed following Gloria's, Tessa's, Joanne's, and Barbara's deaths. She had nowhere else to go, so she begged us to take her in.

As they were driving Michael was using style to look around maybe they might see any store or shop that still look new maybe they we get something to eat. Suddenly their van stopped. No gas again Michael and Mrs. Anabel felt fustrated they had no choice than to walk with their foot, both of them are tired, weak, and pale. Mrs. Anabel started feeling dizzy but Michael encourage her to be strong because no where to take shelter here and they're too weak to fight any zombie if they get attacked from them.

He wrapped the towel around his waist, walked out of the bathroom and went up to the window. The army of the dead was increasing and drawing power out of him. He felt more and more of the undead were emerging from their metal-bound coffins with every minute. More and more of the higher undead: draugrs, strzygas, blood-rakers, ghouls and other creatures of the Dark. Yes, they required a lot of magic. But one monster of this kind was worth a dozen, sometimes even a hundred ordinary zombies.

Her eyes are looking distant as she spoke. " Hera...tte" . . . . " The goddess of Death." And that's when the realisation hits Zander like a truck and suddenly his legs feel too weak to carry his weight. Dropping on his knees, he stared at the dead bodies and blood around him to shake his head a no. His lips trembled as he spoke. " No...this is not possible..nooo...." " Nooooooooooooooo!"