Prison Of The Dead Novels & Stories

Woods said a quick, silent prayer, hoping that the big southern girl didn’t freeze her ass off on her way up to the Pearly Gates. Thirty simple seconds tick-tocked on by, and despite the electric crackle of expectancy in the air, Mama Metcalf remained well and truly dead. Even her blood had stopped flowing, ruby diamonds on a cigarette-butt strewn patch of land. The old woman across from her, Wanda Mabry, would also never move again. Her index finger was curved inwards as though still depressing an invisible trigger that shot invisible bullets of hatred at a sky that would never die. Sirens sung in the distance. When the hospice alarm was activated an automatic call out was prompted to the f

We went to the left side of the estate then to the underground prison . " Fvck " I cursed as Grace led me in . " Donna " the men bowed . " Madam " the greeted me and I just gave a nod as i followed Grace . " Let me out of here .....! Let me out you monsters you killers" I heard Anna's screams ...! There where other prisoners as we walked passed ... Some human skulls and skeleton . Indeed the Deluca's are Dangerous ,these people have lots of secrets that we don't even know . Grace opened the cell and there she was .

"I've never seen this hidden room, but I know how to get there. If it's true that Arden has a secret den inside the palace, could it be possible that he's been there this whole time?" Violet's jaw dropped in absolute terror. "What?" she whispered. But then the door made a loud sound, and they both turned to see what it was. Jack was back and he seemed pale and lost. "Jack, what happened? Is everything okay?" He closed the door and walked towards his chair, where he simply crumbled. "Peter is dead. He killed himself."

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.

When the door finally creaked open, a wave of decay and blood hit them in the face. Ragnar froze in place. The Alpha, who had been shouting about exposing my 'tricks', now stood with a pale face. He was nearly unable to keep his balance. The warden held up a torch and shook his head. “I’ve been running this prison for years. I’ve never seen a werewolf corpse rot like this. Who knows how long she's been locked up in here? “This cell should never have been in use! It shouldn’t have started leaking poisonous gas either. If I had known someone was in here, I would’ve arranged patrols and meals. At the very least, I would've made sure she didn’t rot to death without anyone knowing.”

Mira pov The night was silent, yet I couldn’t find peace. I rolled onto my side, then onto my back, then onto my stomach, but sleep refused to come. My mind was a battlefield of thoughts, conflicting and troubling, clashing against one another. The dead prisoners haunted me. Their lifeless eyes, their untouched bodies, their inexplicable deaths. “How were they even killed?” Nothing made sense. The prisoners had no wounds, no signs of struggle, no poison detected in their bodies. It was as if something had just… taken their lives without a trace.

Small stones embedded themselves into my flesh and, mixed with my tears, caused excruciating pain—like salt being rubbed into my wounds. I writhed on the ground, howling in agony like a mad dog on the verge of death, while they laughed and mocked me. “An estate worth millions, and she thought she could take it from us. Let’s see if she lives long enough to spend a dime.” “Jenn, she’s not moving anymore. Do you think we went too far? What if this gets messy?” I felt a flicker of hope—maybe Marcus still had a shred of conscience left.

I told them. “Four months before Elder Lee comes for me.” Dominic’s eyes went black around the edges. “Then he dies before he touches you.” The link snapped, and the darkness swallowed me whole, plunging me back into the belly of the beast. The real prison greeted me with its familiar, putrid breath: the low, rhythmic moaning of the broken, the rattling of steel by trembling hands, and the chorus of women crying themselves hoarse while guards laughed in the distance.

I didn’t know where we were, but I knew we passed through the desert somewhat, passed through many deserted roads and many valleys and hills. The prison was so far away that any prisoner who tried to escape, either by luck or by strategy, would not be able to make it alive back into the city. It was from this instance, I knew I was dead. Arriving at the prison, “Move it, everybody!” the jailer who sat in the van with us shouted at the top of his voice. He held a bludgeon stick in his hand. It was made of metal such that when he hit it on any erring prisoner, such a prisoner might die.

"We've also uncovered multiple organ trafficking contracts. Under the guise of charity, Dr. Callaghan used her clinic to house terminally ill patients while secretly facilitating organ sales. Among them…" She slid another document before me, saying, "Your corneas, kidneys, and liver were already reserved." The shock made me jump up from the couch. "What? They… They planned everything all along to have me die that soon? This is outright murder!" I clutched my chest, overwhelmed and struggling to process the revelation, as I tried to calm my spiraling emotions.