Solemn Stranger Novels & Stories

He slowly lowered his hand, his bloodshot eyes darting up to the stranger. “Who the fuck are you?” Adrian spat, trying to salvage his bravado. The stranger didn’t flinch at the profanity. Instead, his smile widened just a fraction, though the amusement never reached his eyes. Those eyes—a striking, pale storm-gray—were fixed entirely on Adrian, and they were utterly dead. “I’m the bloke whose table you are currently occupying,” the British man said pleasantly. He leaned down slightly, bringing his face closer to Adrian’s level. When he spoke again, the polite, aristocratic warmth vanished completely, replaced by an icy, lethal whisper.

Elliot asked, his voice low, steady. The stranger tilted their head, smiling faintly. “I suppose you could call me… the overseer.” “The overseer of what?” Elliot demanded. Their smile widened, but their eyes remained cold. “This,” they said simply, gesturing around them. “The judgment. The reckoning. Call it what you will.” Elliot’s pulse quickened. “So you’re the one behind this. The notes. The deaths. It’s you.” The stranger’s expression didn’t falter. “You’re quick to accuse, but I haven’t touched a single one of you. You’re doing this to yourselves.”

The end of a journey every civilization had been attempting in their own flawed way. And somehow— He chose to remain human. The stranger looked up at the sky again. His smile disappeared completely. "Unfortunately..." The atmosphere trembled. The gateways darkened. The shadow beyond them moved again. Larger now. Closer. Hungrier. "...it's coming." The Endwalker closed its eyes. The First Hunger tightened its claws. The Sovereign rose higher into the air. And for the first time since arriving— The mysterious stranger looked genuinely serious. "It found the path."

It took a moment for her to realize he didn’t let go. “I’m so sorry,” she managed to whisper. “I wasn’t paying attention.” “I’m glad you weren’t,” the stranger replied. When she looked at him curiously, he added, “I would have had to come up with a way to meet you, otherwise.” “Oh,” she blushed. His smooth, masculine tone of southern assuredness vibrated through her body as he said, “I’m Martin Somerson.” “Alison,” she stammered. “Colby, Alison Colby.”

"Why do I feel like I am being interrogated so early in the morning?" I pursed my lips before murmuring. "Sorry." He sighed. "Okay, first and foremost, I'm not going to say any details about me because you're a stranger and at the same time, I'm also a stranger to you." He said, a matter-of-factly. "Didn't your parents told you to not speak to strangers?' He said the word 'stranger' three times in that sentence. I didn't say anything. We just resume our walking while I was willowing myself in embarrassment. It made me realized that I had just disobeyed one of my mother's lectures.

‎ ‎The furniture was near and cold, like it was placed to be look at. ‎ ‎A stranger was sitting on a chair, closer to my bed. Leaning on the chair as if he owns the hotel. He was watching me and relaxing in a way that made my heart beat faster. ‎ ‎He looked awake. ‎ ‎Too awake. ‎Like he was waiting for me to wake up. ‎ ‎" who are you" I ask my voice being low. ‎ ‎He raised his eyebrows sightly, you don't remember. ‎ ‎I swallowed and pushed myself up, they movement sent headache to my head and body pain to my body. My body felt sore in a strange way, the memories of yesterday's sex came rushing in my head.

Time's up. No sooner had the words left my mouth than a stir echoed down the hallway. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, faces etched with a mix of terror and reverence. The deliberate click of high heels grew louder, each step resonating like a heartbeat through the throng. A team of bodyguards in black swiftly took charge, pushing back the onlookers with their phones at the ready. A statuesque silhouette framed the doorway, her black business attire cut with precision, her hair swept up in an elegant twist. Her features echoed Jennifer's, but where Jennifer held a flicker of warmth, this woman radiated a commanding chill that seemed to pierce the very air.

"He wouldn't leave me." "He did," the stranger said. "The Valentis were going to kill him. He knew it, so he ran and left the debt behind." "I don't have forty thousand dollars," I said. "I can't pay you." The stranger stepped closer and towered over me. "I know," he said. "I'm Declan Sutton." My blood went cold. I took a sharp step back, my spine hitting the dumpster. I knew that name. Everyone in the city knew that name. They were the ones you didn't cross.

And one—one felt like a promise. We reached a narrow pass between two ridges as night began to fall. The stranger slowed, scanning the rocks. “This is as far as I go tonight.” Seren frowned. “Why?” “Because this place listens,” he said simply. “And if I stay, it’ll hear me.” He turned to me then, and there was something almost human in his eyes for the first time. “You’ll see more tonight. Don’t trust what feels perfect.” And then he was gone, vanishing into the shadows like he’d never been there at all.

He along with the guests was now getting too deep in bewilderment and wanted to know what the matter was and how come a mere stranger can put such an allegation on the most reputed businessman Viaan Adams. The stranger's gaze intensified, his voice filled with conviction and a wave of deep-seated anger. "I'm not claiming anything preposterous. I speak the truth, sir, not baseless accusations," he declared firmly, his words resonating with unwavering resolve. His eyes bore into Viaan, radiating a mix of disgust and vengeance. "Viaan Adams may appear dignified among you all, but beneath his facade lies the darkest of sins."