The Last Survivor Novels & Stories

I asked, curious of what kinds of creatures they were. "Mostly they die, horrifyingly. The last person to survive was the current Lycan King, he was punished for going against his father back in the days. Nobody has ever survived since then and I hope nobody gets to experience these fields, unless they are some traitors or rogues" she went on explaining to me. I nodded, deep down I was lost in my thoughts. I wished to see what kind of fight takes place here and at the same time, I was scared. Suddenly a honk rang, making me surprised. "What is that?" I asked.

“They were trying to destroy the documents.” Xavier looked back toward the parking garage. The folder was still in Lucas's hand. But several pages were burning. Lucas immediately dropped to his knees and grabbed them. He saved what he could. Then he noticed something written on the final surviving page. A single sentence. THE THIRD PASSENGER NEVER DIED. Lucas froze. Stacy looked over his shoulder. “What does that mean?” Lucas slowly looked at her. “I don't know.” Then another thought struck him.

Then he raised his voice, letting it carry over the crowd, through the minds and ears of every broken wolf still standing: “Anyone who is able to move—check on your neighbor. If you were hit with wolfsbane, move toward this side, here by the oak line. If you can walk, you can help. Go now.” Movement rippled through the battered survivors. Slow, unsteady, but determined. Simon turned back to Doc. “Do what you can. Loria will be here soon.” “I’ll keep them alive,” she promised. He nodded once and stepped back, eyes scanning the horizon. Our Luna was coming. And with her—hope. Or vengeance. Maybe both.

“Men, women, and children were all slain, Your Excellencies, save...for one.” “You mean there is a survivor?” Eleazar exclaimed with considerable emphasis. He eyed Mikha’el and watched how he easily opened his mouth. “Technically, no, this one did not survive the massacre.” “But why do you say so otherwise? What are you meaning to tell us?” Eleazar’s brows furrowed. “The survivor — as you had called it — is a woman, sire. But she wasn’t spared by the attack at all. She died, but the essence of life returned back to her. She lives again.”

And the truth, horrible and sudden, crashed through me: “My mother wasn’t alone the day she died.” I lifted my eyes to the others. “She was with one of them. One who lived.” Dren whispered, “No way…” But Kael gripped my arm, jaw tight. “Lana. Which Keeper?” The shard pulsed like a heartbeat. I finally said it: “The survivor… was High Keeper Thalen.” Warren cursed under his breath. Mara stiffened. Dren made a strangled noise. Bastion whispered, horrified, “He was the last person to report seeing her alive.”

But even that supply eventually ran out, and soon, famine spread like plague, claiming more lives. Ezra and Ellery sought refuge on the thick branch of the last standing barren beech tree. The ground below was soaked in blood, not an inch left untouched by the genocide. Ellery, too weak and injured to move, stayed behind while Ezra ventured out, scavenging whatever scraps he could find. Then an announcement echoed through the walls, shattering the haunting silence of death. ‘The gate number one will open for the last survivor.’ The announcement came as a hope to the survivors. Everyone with even the faintest trace of life left in them began dragging themselves

Mia Bennett has one rule: never send Eli that text. She broke it without even trying. A viral phone glitch resurrects a six-month-old confession she never meant him to see, and suddenly the boy who broke her heart in a school parking lot is standing before her, right as she's seven months pregnant and can no longer hide it. There's only one problem. Mia doesn't know whose baby it is. Two nights, three days apart, one blackout dark bathroom she never saw a face in, and now Eli is circling a question he's carried for six months without a name to put to it, while his best friend has no idea he might already be the answer. And when the truth finally comes, it doesn't end the choice. It start

The address was sent to me later by his personal assistant. - It was the perfect place to watch the aurora. It should have been packed, yet only a few people were gathered near the front. "Today's aurora is a once-in-a-century event. Good thing the director loves his wife so much that he booked out the whole place for her!" "Exactly! Otherwise, we'd just be staring at the backs of other people's heads!" I was a little surprised. Jason had always kept work and home separate, so the people at the hospital should not have known who I was. There was even less reason for him to book out a whole place to watch the aurora.

"Conrad, eat. You'll warm up once you do." Conrad closed his eyes. A smile more painful than tears tugged at his lips. At last, he understood. There would never again be a woman named Seraphina who was willing to give her life to love a bastard named Conrad. The gears of fate had locked into place the moment that speakerphone call connected. What remained for him was a long, endless life. One without redemption.

I said. In my past life, I'd witnessed too many occasions of humans turning out to be more savage than zombies when they wanted to eat. They would do everything they could to get a mouthful of food. After the zombie outbreak, morals and laws meant nothing. Survivors would do anything to stay alive. The bad memories made me tremble uncontrollably, but a warm hand on my cheek pulled me back to my senses. Mom said gently, "Things must've been hard for you, sweetheart."