Resident Evil: Afterlife Novel Novels & Stories

She quickly went back inside, feeling a sharp pain she couldn’t explain. “Babe, come on, let’s go to the bedroom and continue this. I’m a little tipsy.” Gabriel carried Jennifer to their room, laid her on the bed, and kissed her again. She responded eagerly. He took off her top and bottom, kissed her passionately, his hands and lips exploring her body until he finally entered her. They both grew exhausted and eventually fell asleep.

It made sense to him that Adrian had lost his mind and had murdered these innocent families, those children. “Okay look at these. I found them in my father’s house after his funeral,” Adrian said and handed Robert three old books, bound in leather. Robert opened the first book and began to read. It held accounts of wolf sightings, transformation ceremonies, councils, people with powers, how to kill a wolf and much more. There were detailed drawings and Robert could tell by the faded ink that the books were old indeed. Adrian knew the truth.

The very last thing I heard before the world went completely black was his flat, uncaring voice echoing above me: “Dispose of her body. She is useless.” * My eyes snapped open, and I violently jumped up, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I gasped for air, clutching my chest as I looked around the unfamiliar room. The walls were made of dark stone, but there was a soft bed beneath me. Was I in the afterlife? A sudden panic rushed through my veins. I scrambled off the mattress, my bare feet hitting the cold floorboards. “Where is this place?” I whispered to the empty air, tears pricking my eyes. “Am I dead? Can I finally see my mom again?”

"How dare you bite me, you stupid old man!" The wheelchair did not have any breaks on, so that kick sent the wheelchair rolling straight down the stairs. Dad fell to the ground as well, and his head crashed into a corner of the wall at the bottom of the stairwell. There was a dull thud. Blood was everywhere. Dad died in that fall. Alex had murdered him. This time, he could not weasel his way out. As killing his own father was an aggravating factor, Alex was sentenced to death.

Just the feeling of two hands held tight in the dark. And then, on the blank canvas of the universe, a single, elegant line of script appeared, written in a hand that was neither corporate nor divine. It was a human hand. **THE END.** --- The script is dead! The "Vance Legacy" has been deleted, and the old world is gone. Elara has sacrificed her godhood to turn Silas’s death into a new beginning. But as the white light fades, where will they wake up? In the final chapter, we see the "Un-Written" world—and the life they chose when the cameras finally stopped rolling.**

"If you don't want to live, then you can die too." To my surprise, that one strike had not only killed Tyler but also awakened Evelyn. But Edith had already stopped listening to Evelyn's words. She stared blankly ahead, like her soul had left her body. I followed her gaze. It was where Tyler had fallen. I sighed and left the hospital.

He began to sink within his question-marks and exclamation-marks. Eriwan started his monolog again at the quay of his thought and consideration. Oh no… This is another realm already… Still there’s this massive and seemingly-endless violets garden. This is the same scent as I smelt at that time... But, this is another realm already… So, this isn’t the human-realm in which I’ve been living all these times. I have died, haven’t I? I’m no more staying in the human-realm. So, this is the afterlife-realm?

One volume called to her like a whisper against bone: *The Greater Veil: Finer Threads of Dominion* She pulled it free. The book was heavier than the black tome from her father’s library, its cover bound in something that looked like polished shadow-leather, warm to the touch. She opened it carefully. The first pages spoke of layered commands, of weaving intent so precisely that the dead obeyed without resistance, of turning even the strongest-willed undead into extensions of the caster’s will. Raven’s breath caught. She looked up at Victoria. Victoria read the title over her shoulder, then met Raven’s gaze. She squeezed Raven’s hand once—firm, reassuring—and nodded.

"Blood works like a charm to preserve them. The same way you preserve dead creatures with formaldehyde, so they can live as long as they continue to feed on blood. I guess they've gone through fossilization." "So they're like walking fossils or something?" Alyssa asked. "We call them the undead or walking dead, but never walking fossils, Alyssa," Cammie told her. Octavia had told me about the undead vampires. Those vampires are hungrier and more untamed than the living ones, but not as strong, and they normally serve the true-bloods who created them. "Do vampires afraid of holy water, then?" "Trust me, they can even bath with it," I answered. "So can vampires fly?" She made a wing-flapping m

Her legs spread, Harrow’s fingers moved deeper still, far too far, past the point of reason and reality, while parishioners prayed and the monotonous droning of hymns were sung and there, near but too far, her bless’d Christ wept red as useless Saints waited silent and still, her soul splitting while her beloved’s hand, then wrist, then arm moved past her hips and into her guts, impaling her, trapping her, the pleasure coupled with pain and fear, a delicious panic that made her heart race and her brow sweat, her feet no longer on the ground, her legs opened and eager, her knees spread wider, her skirt wrinkled ‘round her waist, his hand insistent, ravenous, forcing its way past her innards a