Novel & Cerita The Last House On The Street

She couldn’t even remember the last time they’d been to The House. The House was a place where people could indulge in any hedonistic fantasy. No judgment. No condemnation. Damon Roche, a very wealthy businessman, owned The House and he was very discerning when it came to membership. Hell, for all Karla knew their membership had expired or they’d been taken off the guest list since they hadn’t been in two years.

Surely even the manager couldn’t just up and leave whenever they wanted. I paused and stared down the street, where a moving truck was parked and Mrs Hendrick’s house was being emptied out. Ever since she passed away, her daughter had been meaning to clean out the house and put it on the market. Mangrove Street was a typical suburban street, but the houses here were highly sought after because it was close to everything. Whatever you needed was exactly five minutes away, and that was something Aunt Carol and every other house owner was highly proud of. I made my way towards the front door, and the first thing that seemed odd to me when I walked in was the music blasting from upstairs. Aunt C

They drove down the dead end dirt road. Each house along the way was dark. No cars sat in the driveways. They went to the last house on the left, sitting farther off the road than the others. Goon #1 pulled the SUV around behind the house into an empty shed they'd scouted earlier. Now all they had to do was wait, and hope Marco came home to roost.

She swallowed hard, trying not to think about what might have been. “And then the house fire… where he swore he heard someone calling for help. Eddie says that those were his last words, an insistence that someone had been in there.” She shuffled back through the yellowed pages, re-reading that part. “The house was supposed to be rented for the full summer, through an agency. But the person who rented it never showed up, and never asked for a refund. It was a cash transaction, so not traceable.” Also not unheard of in those days, before everything was done through apps and online.

"Mommy, I know how to wake you up now. I'm going back to our old home to get the feather!" Watching my son walk out so determinedly, I was stunned for a moment, subconsciously wanting to pick up the shoes on the floor and put them on for him. Alas, my outstretched hand passed through the air without resistance. That was… Yeah. I forgot. I was already dead. I couldn't take care of my dear boy anymore. Leaving the house, I followed my son to the Hawthorne family residence. It was New Year's Eve today, and the streets were filled with the scent of fireworks. The mood around us was lively, filled with the joyous sounds of family gatherings.

"It was someone who loved you, Elara. Someone the world forgot so we could live." The Last-Stand Valor had won the day, but at the cost of the family’s foundation. The sky was still cracked, and the Exterminator Fleet was still out there, but the Internal-Invasion had failed. The Haven was quiet, save for the sound of the waterfall and the soft, grieving hum of an Anchor who had lost a part of her soul she couldn't even name.

Why did I only understand how I felt after I'd already lost her forever? *** Epilogue II Third-Person POV After Yara died, Shawn went after Johan's company. When two heavyweights went to war, everybody took a hit. Their friends set up a dinner to force a truce. Johan and Shawn showed up as a favor, but both looked ready to tear into each other. Johan was a wreck. Shawn had lost so much weight that his eyes looked huge in his gaunt face. "Don't think I'll ever forgive you." "Give me Blackie, and I'll help you finish this," Johan said.

Emma and Nolan moved through the rain-slicked streets, shadows gliding along walls and puddles at their edges. The storm had eased, but the city still felt alive with unseen eyes. Every streetlight flickered, every distant rumble of thunder a warning. The final node awaited—a central hub that pulsed like a dark heartbeat—and they could feel the tension in the air, thick and electric. “This way,” Nolan whispered, pointing toward a crumbling skyscraper at the edge of the industrial district. Its top was shrouded in clouds, lightning flickering around the jagged edges. “The final node is inside. Whoever controls it… they’re watching everything.”

However, the moment he walked into the empty house, the familiar disappointment settled over him once more. Nothing appeared to be missing, yet with one person gone, the house no longer felt complete. It no longer felt like home. He remembered his college years, when he could only visit me once a month. Back then, a month never seemed that long. Now, it hadn't even been a month, and he already missed me this much. He missed his Cammie. Clinging to that longing, he sat alone in the house for three straight days. Then Damon called again. "Mr. Webster, I'm currently—"