Rise Of The Living Dead Novels & Stories

*** THE UNDEAD ON THE RISE … and have we ever been one with ourselves, our eyes would have never fooled us for what the truth really was… Two days succeeding the 4th of September last year, a phenomenon such as not for all the eyes to see had made it past the world’s unresolved mystery and has inscribed its every rich detail in the history: The blood moon. Prior to its awe-inspiring surfacing, New York had been branded as the city of suicide, with a mortality rate as high as six or more heads by the passing week. Even up until this point that the suicide cases had, somehow, found itself in inertia, no one was still any wiser as to how and why it came to be.

Brida howled. The pack was holding their breath anxiously to see what would happen. They were all staring at Brida who was sitting on her knees covered in blood with her head tilted forward. At first, it seemed nothing would happen but then Brida levitated into the air and started glowing with white light from all sides. A clear voice echoed through the open space, “A NEW ERA WILL BE BORN. WOLVES WITH EYES THAT REFLECT THE SOUL OF THE MOON WILL END THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT. FENRIR WILL BREAK FREE AND RAGNAROK WILL BE BROUGHT UPON THE WEREWOLF WAYS.”

Lucas said to Biggy. Biggy threw a punch upon receiving Lucas’ order. Boom! A thundering sound was heard, and the Rank 1 Evolved Ones instantly died unsightly deaths. As Lucas had ordered, only one Rank 1 Evolved One was spared. Lyla was stupefied. She had heard of mutant zombies and their realms before. Levels 1 to 10 were ordinary zombies. From level Level 10 onward, they were mutant zombies. Mutant zombies were called Rank 1, Rank 2, and so on.

she lengthily narrated to me. So that’s how a resurrection spell works. A life for a life. You need life as sacrifice to bring back dead to life again. Raise the dead and you will never know what you raise. These are the words I remember when I accidentally read the book that was in Mother Arianna’s room back then.

one of the Soul Drenching Squirrels was aghast. “To think that I'd one day witness the true Euphonic Call of the Deities... and to my death at that, this is indeed messed up!” said another. As the earth trembled, buried bones of savage beasts and humans began to assemble themselves up from the ground. It was like one of those zombie movie wherefore the zombies ascended up from the ground in graveyards, during their appointed time. I didn't know what expression to carry on my face; to laugh or to burst into tears of the overpowered Kira.

It hurt watching all these familiar young faces as they lost their lives, killing each other. But then Drakes decided to make it worse, as he made his dark mist continue to affect the dead ones, making them rise again, as reanimated corpses to kill the ones still alive. I felt as if I was now stuck in some zombie apocalypse or horror movie. Watching dead people rise again. How was this even possible? But I then looked in shock to see that there was another person not affected by Drakes's dark mist.

It was a carefully planned "accident" that made me lose my child and my consciousness. Meanwhile, the mastermind lived her days in peace. With a quick glance at Zachary, I said, "Show him that video." Zachary nodded, then turned the television on. In the video, a man lifted his identification and tried to avoid the camera. Upon hearing the warning that was said to him, he spoke up in a shaky voice. "Hitting Riley because of drunk-driving wasn't an accident. Selena Tanner was the one who told me to do so.

“We need you to be stronger than ever. We make our stand in this realm; once we win, all of the realms are ours.” She nodded. “You know what you have to do.” Geoffraine said and she raised her arms. The ground broke underneath them as The Dead crawled out from every hole and crevice, every male, female and unnnamed that ever lived and died in all the realms. Beasts that went extinct millions of years ago rose to fight once again and the end was inevitable. There was no fighting Death, there was only acceptance. The clash between the living and the dead nearly tore the realm apart.

His eyes flicked toward mine, and for a heartbeat, he forgot how to breathe. “Dragomir has people,” he said. “A network. They collect the bodies. Anyone who dies becomes part of his army, resurrected, reconditioned. He calls them ‘preserved assets.’ It doesn’t happen often. Only when there’s… poisoning, or a violent death.” He tried to sound rational, like any of this made sense. Like what he described wasn’t a slow, quiet apocalypse hidden behind lab coats and clinical trials. They were manufacturing monsters. Selling eternal life in syringes.

The infected weren’t the only threat anymore. That much had become clear over the past few weeks. It wasn’t just the shambling hordes of zombies that kept me awake at night, but the survivors—the desperate ones, the ones who had lost too much, the ones who saw others as nothing more than resources to take.