Sevens Novels & Stories

" I asked Seven who looked rather irritated by my question. "Their greatest weakness is the light or fire and we were able to kill them all in here because of your trick which lit up the whole place. It will be hard in Seven-pack right now so we just need to get fire sticks each and distract them by swerving the fire instead. Fighting with the sword won't work out in this one because the little fire in the hands won't be enough to make them flinch or get weak. They will attack us with the sword in our hands." He said and I sighed.

The "Seven Up" game required participants to count sequentially from zero. If the number they were about to say was exactly seven, fourteen, seventeen, or any other number related to or multiples of seven, they had to say "Seven Up." If they got it wrong, they would be eliminated. It may seem simple, but it tested reaction time. Shouting too slowly could also lead to elimination. Initially, Charlotte was worried about Julie, but after trying a round, she realized that her reaction time was not as good as Julie's, and she became nervous. Moreover, Julie was bold.

He was the one that was planning it as he did every other year. This year I was hopeful that I would meet my mate and so would Seven. "I stress about not meeting my mate" I pointed out sadly. "We are late bloomers," he said laughing. Seven found everything funny and lightened up any tense situation. He was soft and kind, too loving and extremely trusting. He was a hugger and he never ceased to give. His anger had a special box in his heart and it was locked away. It only came out to play on special occasions such as when the need to fight arose.

“I have something to tell you” Alpha Seven managed to say. Alpha Seven is the heir to the throne of the Alpha, Alpha Cloud of the undefeated wolves. Right there, at night time, he laid gently in the garden with his hands behind his head and his lover, Hazel, lying peacefully on his chest as they watched the stars together.

But the thread had been pulled. And it was unraveling. Soon, the Seventh would rise. Not with fire. Not with storms. But with the weight of everything forgotten.

The whole situation I was in was fucked up from day one, and now I was bartering lives. “Who is he?” I asked once we were in the car. “Seven.” One. Three. Five. Six. Seven. Nine. The Sesame Street Count would not be happy with my counting skills. Only single digits had been mentioned and though I hadn’t seen him, I did know Eight was killed in Indianapolis and we were searching for Four. “So Seven is better than you,” I said, remembering our conversation in Tennessee. His lips formed a thin line. “Is that wounded pride I see?”

Several servants lifted Spencer inside as well. Just as the crowd waited for Baby Robbie to interrogate Sandra, Baby Robbie smacked his thigh dejectedly and said with great pity, “Darn it, I should have brought Sis Seven with me today. She’s great at interrogations.” Andy echoed, “Out of the 18 Torture Methods that Lil Seven has invented, peeling out someone’s scalp is the most effortless of all. If she’s in charge, how long do you think this old hag Sandra can last?”

On bus. February. Waving. At nothing. At air. At brother. “Day 476,” Adrian said. 62 BPM. Watching road. Where bus was. “How’s 1 through 6.” “One’s on bus,” I said. “Two and three are 3. Four’s 6 months. Five’s Bear. Six is… us?” “Six is us,” Susan said. “Seven is home. Math checks out.” _Thump._ *2:59 PM. [SFX: CLOCK. THEN GATE. THEN RUNNING.]*

Dead on impact. The Reaper felt bad for me—said I didn't deserve to go out like that. Gave me seven days. One last shot to say goodbye. When I came back, it was already dark. I kept thinking—I wish I had wings. Maybe they were waiting. But under the moonlight, as I got closer, I saw through the dining room window— Alex, sitting between my parents. Brian and Ruby, side by side. Red wine. Fancy food. Everyone dressed like they were starring in a holiday ad.

The hush in the hidden apartment was no longer a comfort. It was a suspended breath. Sabe sat at the steel desk, the light of the ancient tablet casting his face in a jaundiced blue glow. He had mapped the web, summoned the players, but the intel hung heavy in his belly like a weight of lead. The scope of the enemy was paralyzing. Section Seven was not a target; it was terrain. You couldn't shoot the air.