Shiro Deadman Novels & Stories

A third cup lay on its side, coffee splattered over the table, and drizzling to the floor. I gasped as I watched the stream of coffee. A man in a black uniform lay sprawled on the tile, blood pooling around him. He was most definitely dead with his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. Holy hell! He was a guard here. His badge read Jon Sanders. I couldn't look at him any longer. He was dead. I couldn't imagine Thomas or Derek doing something like that, but that meant the maniac squad was definitely up here. Shit.

He thought the council would accept his retirement but it would be the end of his life. “You are stupid! You know you can't survive if you don't finish those and you really told them what you know!” Voice of a man getting out of a car. This is probably their leader. Azrael and Seraphine immediately stood up and pointed the gun at the man but before they could get ready, he tried to shoot Azrael. Azrael was still holding his captured man, He make him like a human shield and caught bullets from their leader's gun. Four gunshots ended his life. Azrael and Seraphine immediately returned fire.

she nodded gently, her face so intently focused on him now, as he sighed again, struggling to answer her without saying too much. Lukas stepped forward, pulling up one of the chairs from the small dining table, and sitting facing her. "Very few know about us," he said softly, "but the ones that do, they call us 'Shadowsouled'." Jason could feel her apprehension growing, as she likely sensed his nervousness, her eyes drifting between the two of them now.

The wolf economized his movements by analyzing him, his long fangs were visible due to the puckered fur on his snout, the wolf's hair stood on end like metal spikes, giving him a more terrifying appearance than he already had. The wolf lunged again and the man raised the gun but the trigger jammed. It was only a matter of seconds for those fangs to pierce the thin flesh of the neck. Cristian had no regard for the body. He tore each fiber of flesh to the chest where the heart still beat, weak but alive. He didn't hesitate, didn't think, he opened his mouth and smashed it. The pain blinded him, consumed him, taking his breath and the strength to think, and the man's death brought barely a tent

Then I turn the first card. Death. The familiar image appears at first — the dark rider mounted on a horse moving steadily forward while the world around him changes. Then the image shifts. The rider is no longer faceless. The armor is different. The posture is unmistakable. My breath catches. Kieran. Not exactly him… but close enough that the meaning settles instantly in my chest. The moment passes as quickly as it came. The illustration returns to normal. But the card has already said what it needed to say.

She looked around, trying to figure out what had happened, and then she saw it - a figure lying on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood. Kiara's heart raced as she got out of her car and approached the figure cautiously. As she got closer, she realized that the figure was a man, pale and lifeless. She knelt down beside him, trying to see if he was still breathing, but it was too late - he was already dead. Suddenly, the man's eyes opened, and Kiara screamed as he lunged at her, biting her neck. She tried to fight him off, but he was too strong. She felt her life slipping away as he sucked the blood from her veins, and then everything went black.

A familiar voice broke the alpha's train of thoughts and hazel eyes met silver ones. "I see they didn't wound your sense of humour." Lucas replied, lips twitching as a smile threatened to spread across them. "She." Johnny corrected, wincing slightly. "It was a she-wolf. Definitely a shifter but not a rogue." Lucas raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't matter. They're dead as soon as we find them." "Sure that's wise?" Johnny replied. "Seems like your girl knows who the wolf is." "Is that so?"

I could barely breathe as I scrolled down, the article unfolding like a nightmare: In a shocking turn of events, Adrian Blackwood, grandson of the late billionaire patriarch Arthur Blackwood, is on the verge of losing his inheritance. According to an inside source, Adrian, who was set to inherit his grandfather’s vast fortune on the condition that he marry the woman chosen by the patriarch, has been living a lie for the past four years. Sources reveal that Adrian, instead of marrying the woman handpicked by his grandfather, secretly wed another Vanessa, a young woman reportedly coerced into playing the role of the ‘chosen one.’ This deception, aimed at fulfilling the stipulations of the will

But it could also kill everyone in the hall, friend and foe alike. The heir caught his eye, as if sensing his hesitation. “If you have something, now’s the time, Shadow Heir.” The name hit like a hammer. Not whispered, not hidden—spoken in the open, with every soldier and assassin within earshot. The Creed leader, a tall man with a raven-feather clasp at his cloak, laughed from across the hall. “So the rumors were true. The last of the Shadowblood walks among them.” His blade rose, pointing at Eolan. “Take him alive.”