Rotten Apples Book Novels & Stories

Lucian thought as he picked the spoiled apple to dump it in the trash can. “I am sorry. There are many people who spend days without food and I am throwing you away,” Lucian whispered remembering the days he spent rummaging through garbage bins for half-eaten sandwiches. To his surprise, a faint green glow lit his hand as the fruit revived itself and looked as if it was freshly collected from the tree. Lucian gasped placing the apple on the kitchen counter and examined his hand.

"That's easy! From what I read in Apple's book—if it's true—she has a spell that can fish out good people by reading their thoughts, emotions and hearts. She used it to wipe out a race of evil pixies once. Apple could go with them and help. What about that?" "Hold on," his eyes glazed over. While he was distracted, I returned my gaze to the big bulge in his pants. It'd grown bigger than before. I gulped. I was starting to get a hint of what the second condition might be. "Apple said she can do it so I've given them the instructions. Happy now?"

I wasn't doing ten-million-dollar projects on a 5,000-dollar paycheck anymore. Life became comfortable. My days were busy and fulfilling. Little by little, the past faded away. I stopped caring about Alan and Larissa. Or rather, I couldn't be bothered to care. What I didn't expect was that those peaceful days didn't last long before an uninvited guest disrupted everything. It was late in the season, almost autumn. The sycamore trees outside the company were shedding their leaves one after another. Alan's tall, familiar figure stood there in the soft Westarken breeze. Even from behind, it was obvious how worn-out he had become these past few months. He was too tired to care about his appearan

A little girl could be seen picking small apples that had fallen down the tree that stood tall in the center of a huge Mansion. "Beatrice darling, how many times does mummy have to tell you that picking the fallen apples is bad..do you want to be struck by lightning?" An older woman asked as she walked out of the house to see the little girl down on her knees as she picked them carefully. "But mummy, the apples are fresh." "Sweetie, this is food for the dead not for the living." Her mother said, and the little girl's eyes widened. "But why do we have them here mummy, if they are for the dead..they should be kept in the cemetery." The little girl said as she discarded the fruits and stood up

I shook my head and opened my palm. Then apples appeared in my palm, they floated on it, and I showed it to Devon. “All of these apples came from the same tree, the same level of sweetness, nutrition, and anything.” Little clouds show up above the apples. Soon it started raining. Then some apples turned black. “Some apples turned black and became a poison.” I looked up at him. “Among those apples, what will you choose?” “Are you saying I am a poison of this pack?”

Victoria’s slippers were gone from the doorway. There was no late-night snack waiting for him in the kitchen. Even the familiar scent of lavender had vanished from the air. Finn stood in the center of the living room, a profound emptiness washing over him. The will to fight drained out of him. For the first time, he felt utterly and completely alone.

I took a shaky step back. And then… The first thing was thrown. Something cold and wet hit my shoulder, sliding down my arm. The rancid stench hit me before I even looked down. It was a rotten fruit. I watched in pain as a shriveled apple rolled to the floor. And they even laughed at me. Then another came. And another. Someone hurled a half-eaten loaf of bread. And a handful of spoiled vegetables and stones at me. It was that bad. I tried as much as I could to dodge everything while I watched Alpha Malcolm.

“Girl, nah. Bad week for red. Take the green ones instead.” Aria paused mid - motion, her hand hovering over the paper bag. “Why?” The woman leaned forward a little, lowering her voice as if sharing something half - secret, half - curse. “Rot’s been actin’ strange lately. Looks fine on the outside, but inside?” She tapped one of the apples with a chipped nail. “Boom — spores. I’m tellin’ you, something’s wrong with the soil. Bad energy, maybe worse.” Aria frowned, glancing at the apple’s glossy surface again. “They look fine to me.”

“We’ll try a spoon of applesauce in a bit. Then soup if the gods smile.” She made a face I mentally captioned bribable. “You brought books,” she said, as if she had to confirm it was real and not a fever hallucination. “I did. No onions.” Her laugh tumbled out—rough around the edges, precious because it was possible. “Thank you. For all of it. The ugly parts included.” “That’s part of the thing,” I said. “The bad and the boring. The good is easy. The ugly is where the vows go.”

I begged He froze mid-step. His shoulders stiffened, and when he spoke again, his voice was low. “Eve… whatever it is, it’ll have to wait.” By the time the door slammed shut behind him, so did my courage. I stood there long after he was gone, staring at the empty space where he had been, the words burning holes in my throat. ⸻ NOAH The safehouse reeked of damp paper, sweat, and old smoke. Maps lined the tables, crisscrossed with red lines and pins.