Requiem City Book Novels & Stories

Moreover, It is just so obvious that the red corps truly wants to complete the order of Brandon, because they are already threshing down the whole city looking for what they didn't sow. And how it came to appear now, the only thing they have to do is to look for Brandon. They have to locate him where ever he is, he is the only one that can stop the red corps, they seriously need to find him wherever he is, or else they will have this city leveled down by the red corps. So that moment Kamdiri was encouraging Mikel was the moment the different types of spaceships of the red corps were arriving and bombing the whole city. Kamdiri gasped in tension, and so as Wisdom gasped also.

And she's surprised when the lock suddenly opens in front of her. She saw an old book inside the vault. A dusty and black old book. Her curiosity becomes even stronger. She took the book and sit on the dusty chair. She opens the pages of the book and started to read its content. "Damien died because of her beloved woman who cheated him on their wedding day. Everyone thought that he really died but actually, he didn't die. He only falls into a deep sleep. And he will rise again once he can drink the blood of a young woman. A special person that has three different kinds of blood inside her body," she stops to read for a moment to catch her breath and then continue.

He quietly speaks so as not to disturb my line of concentration. The further I walk down the line of shelving the older the books become and the deeper the vibration and thrum become. It echoes through me and my skin prickles with goosebumps. Like a siren's silent song, I hear the whispers of ancient words. “Do you hear it?” I ask Crimson. “I hear it,” and I just catch the frown that covers his expression when the beat of the thrum turns to whispers and then becomes clearer. I stop when the voices are the loudest. Reaching up I pluck a book from the shelf. But the book is plain and when I open the pages, they are blank. The voices still whisper words I don’t understand.

For now, she didn't even want to wonder what would happen if aunt Margareth finds out about her feelings. Selene stretched first, then slowly dragged herself off the bed, her eyes immediately fixed on the Book of Magic that was lying down on the desk, the one she had gotten from aunt Meredith yesterday. Selene took it gently in her hands and sat on the edge of the bed, setting the bulky volume on her lap, and flipped through the book several times. Afer the fourth time she stopped at a page that showed a portrait of a man with ebony, half-length hair, in a long black coat... The face itself seemed familiar at once, but when Selene saw his eyes - dark and captivating like two black holes, she

"It's one of the best-selling novels this year. The main characters are assassins and mercenaries, which made the book have a lot of blood and gore, and dark humor. The pacing and plot are great as well as the characters. It has a bit of romance, going from enemies to lovers." "Oh." Now, that caught my attention. "Definitely my type of story." I flipped the book to read its description on the back. "That's actually the last of the Agnis Trilogy." She fetched a couple of books from where I pulled the one on my hand and placed both over it. "First is The City of Flame, next is The Kingdom of Blades, and this, of course, is last." She tapped the books one by one. "Ah, thank you for telling, but

Wednesday, November 27, 2024 | Late Evening The Industrial Outskirts, Las Vegas The armored SUV moved through the night like a shark through dark water. Inside, the silence was thick, broken only by the whisper of the tires on asphalt. “The Red Queen is bleeding.” Damian’s voice cut through the stillness, cool and amused. He hadn’t looked at her, his gaze fixed on the passing city lights. “She will want retribution. Was it worth it, Doctor?”

The shelves were broken, books scattered, their pages fluttering like dying birds. Kael tore strips from his coat to bind his wounds. “You think Roman made it?” he asked. I hesitated. Roman Vale wasn’t easy to kill but this was beyond any battle we’d ever fought. “He’s alive,” I said finally. “He has to be.” Kael gave me a skeptical look. “You sound sure.” “I have to be sure,” I replied. “Otherwise everything we just did… doesn’t matter.” I moved to the window, staring out over the ruined streets. The city that once buzzed with rogue markets, pack truce lines, and forbidden alliances now looked like something out of a nightmare. Fires burned in the distance, and a thick fog unnatural and col

But for Elara Quinn, the world had gone quiet. The gunshot still echoed in her skull. She could taste metal on her tongue, feel the tremor in her fingers no matter how tightly she curled them. When she looked down from the bell tower, she could see Cassidy’s body sprawled on the wet cobblestone, her coat fanned out like black wings. The queen of Garden Metro had fallen — but victory didn’t feel like triumph. It felt like a funeral. The Weight of a City By the time dawn broke, the fires had burned themselves out. Smoke hung low over the river, thick and gray. The Council buildings were deserted; half the guards had fled, the other half simply stopped obeying orders.

He also forced me to get on my knees in repentance every year during the week of Mom's death anniversary. It just happened to be the first day of that very week when the drug dealers broke into the cemetery. Zack's phone suddenly rang at that moment. "Zack! Come to the police station as fast as you can!" … It was already night time by the time Zack rushed to the police station. "Another case?" he asked, turning to look at Officer Wright, captain of the homicide unit. "Take a look yourself," Officer Wright replied with a sombre look. Zack opened up the black plastic bag placed on the autopsy table. The smell of blood mixed with decay hit him like a wave, making him frown involuntarily.

I didn’t build a city to provide a host for a god’s suicide note, but the smell of scorched servers and mercury-rot told me I was the one who had provided the ink for my own erasure. Rebirth City didn’t welcome us back; it snarled. The sleek, black alloy gates of my fortress—the ones I had engineered to be a sanctuary for the discarded—were pulsing with a violent, necrotic violet light. The high-frequency hum of the city’s defensive wards had shifted from a steady guardian’s thrum to a rhythmic, jagged shriek that made the obsidian quartz of my left arm vibrate in its socket.