Ruined Book Novels & Stories

I feel safe being alone here because I know there are two guards outside the library. If only I could do something to help Damon. If only I had the ability to recognize who betrayed Damon. I put down the book I was reading on the table and looked at the high shelves in the library and suddenly the book I saw before came to my mind. That book was written by Alpha Devon and there is a faint suspicion that there is a torn page in that book. I know it's not unusual for a book to be torn because it's natural for a book, to tear and get old...but that book was strange. The book is old, but you will know that every paper used is durable. It can't just be torn because of its old age.

"Did I break it...?" Looking around, she pursed her lips. 'Thank God No one saw me!' Cautiously, she grabbed the old decayed book with a wooden cover. It had no label, just creepy old intricate engravings. She flipped open a page randomly and read. "End is bleak and the rise close, The crimson Rukh and the guardian of the flame, One who bleeds blue holds the fate of those, Beware, every cheat has a price. Curse is on the name. Huh!"

And when their own decoy had backfired—when they realized their plan had been exposed—they ran. The realization crashed over me in waves, each one threatening to pull me under. I gripped the edge of the nearby bookshelf for support, my fingers digging into the polished wood as I fought to remain standing. The leather-bound volumes blurred before my eyes, titles swimming together in a haze of disbelief and dawning horror. I barely registered Marco's next words, but they cut through me all the same. "When they found out their betrayal had been revealed, they tried to run."

Moreover, Elise had given me the copyrights to three major novels—top-ranked and perennial chart-toppers in order to help me vent my frustration. Many people went wild on her social media. [Did Rosie save your life before? Why did you give her so many novels?!] [Elf, if you're being threatened, just change your profile picture!] Elise immediately changed her profile picture to a shot of me on the set, leaving everyone stunned. My fans burst into laughter. [I knew it! How could someone say Rosie was some kind of evil capitalist who forced Elf to give up her novels?!] [Elf probably has about twenty novels! Give them all to Rosie if you could!]

From a distance. She deleted everything. Changed her passwords. Wiped her phone. It didn’t matter. He always found his way back in. At the bookstore, she began noticing things. Little intrusions that only she would catch. A slip of paper in a romance novel: "You belong in stories. But not with anyone else." A worn bookmark tucked into her favorite poetry collection: "No one knows you like I do." And sometimes, there was no message at all—just a blank scrap of paper. Quiet. Empty. Left in books only she ever touched.

But this time, he stared through her, his face dark with resentment. If not for her, he wouldn't have lost me. If not for her, his family wouldn't be in ruins. The butler threw her out, but Sam's phone buzzed incessantly with calls from creditors and ex-partners. In frustration, he smashed it against the floor, finally understanding what it meant to be abandoned when the chips were down. He sank to the ground, haunted by the image of me smiling on Fabio's arm outside City Hall. His heart ached, the pain suffocating.

It was a masterpiece. "He actually did it," Ethan whispered, a strange warmth blooming in his chest that had nothing to do with the morning coffee he hadn't had yet. But as he leaned closer, he noticed something wrong. A flickering red icon in the corner of the screen. File Corrupted. Ethan’s blood turned to ice. He sat in Liam’s chair—the first time he’d ever touched Liam’s furniture—and grabbed the mouse. His fingers were trembling. The main architectural file, the one they needed to present to the Board in less than forty-eight hours, was melting before his eyes. Lines were blurring, dimensions were shifting into gibberish, and the 3D model was folding in on itself like a dying star.

I set the lid back on the cup and turned toward the library. Rows and rows of books stretched before me. My fingers brushed against the spines as I walked along the shelves, feeling the smooth leather and embossed lettering beneath my fingertips. For a moment, I almost forgot why I had come here in the first place. Books had always been my favorite thing. No matter how much I changed or how different life became, that was one thing that never did. My fingers brushed across the spines lining the shelf until I pulled out a familiar book. Just as I thought, it was one of William Shakespeare's works.

"It is Draven. He is fine." A pause. "Of course he is," Darius said quietly. The librarian spent the next ten minutes carefully examining the fallen shelf, the scattered books, and the damaged railing. Kael helped stack the books into neat piles. Several of them had fallen open to random pages, and as he collected them, one caught his eye. He picked it up. The title on the open page read: On The Nature of Probability Manipulation in Pre-Civilization Eryndor. Kael read the first paragraph.

Through the gaps in the roof, rain poured down in sheets, soaking everything Cassian had touched, everything he'd kept, everything that proved he'd existed here at all. I moved without thinking. Grabbed the nearest book and pulled it close, trying to shield it with my body. The pages were already damp, the ink starting to blur. I reached for another. Then another. My hands shook as I tried to stack them somewhere dry, but there was nowhere dry left. The roof was gone in places. Split clean open by the force of my scream. I stood there holding a book that was falling apart in my hands, and I realized I couldn't save any of it. Not like this. Not by carrying them one at a time while the rain d