Prison Of The Dead Novels & Stories

"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."

But as she gazed at him, her attention was diverted to the TV screen mounted on the wall. Breaking news flashed on the screen, and Amelia's heart skipped a beat as she saw a man covered in white cloth being carried on a cart inside an emergency bus. The news caster's voice was somber, "Tragedy struck last night at the local prison, where inmate Smith Greenfield was found dead in the prison toilet. Authorities are still investigating the circumstances surrounding his death."

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.

"Don't expect me to let you die in peace, it's good that you want to kill yourself. I won't let you die after what you've taken from me." Now that her hand was at the base of the girl's neck, Danas immediately rounded her eyes, and her breath caught. He was where he wanted to die, yet he wanted to live. They grip Melvin's big hand; his hand tries to remove the firm hand from his neck, but Melvin's strength is greater than his. The man before him had never been kind, tears now flowing from the corner of his eyes. "Shit," Melvin swore as he released his grip. "You put me in a bad mood this morning."

“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.” Even the warden, who had no connection to me, knew I deserved basic care. However, Ragnar had thrown me in here, skipping a proper trial. He never looked back. “No! She’s not dead!” Ragnar muttered as he rushed into the room to search for me. However, the moment those words left his mouth, he saw

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.

He looked at the prisoners and pointed at the insect soldier, saying, “Listen up. All of you have one chance to fight him. Whoever survives will be pardoned.” The death row prisoners were overjoyed. They were all ruthless criminals who had enough blood on their hands to fill the sea. Now, all they had to do was survive against this creature to be pardoned for all their crimes. How could they not be excited? “I’ll go first!” a burly man with a bald head stepped forward and spoke in a booming voice. He was none other than the top-ranked murderer in the prison who could crush a locomotive with his bare hands. It had taken a lot of effort to capture him in the past.

I asked, remembering all the screams we heard. Kohen sighed softly and reached for my hand. We were in the front yard because it felt a little suffocating inside. I was filled with worry over Olga, Crawford and Henry. I was worried about what they'd do next. I am more worried about my friends than myself. “All the prisoners and guards in the maximum prison were wiped out. They were burned alive, and some of them died a gruesome death. I'm certain that Crawford managed to form another team of psychopaths, and that bitch is one of them.”