The Nam Comic Books Novels & Stories

Naam. Nancy Naam unlocked her office door and entered, removing her coat and hanging it on a nearby hanger. She placed her tablet on the table and then cleaned her glasses before putting them back on. Taking a seat, she forced a smile despite the worry etched on Bogo's face. She understood the immense pressure he was under as the Boss's trusted bodyguard. However, the news she had to deliver would only add to his burden. She opened her mouth to speak but found herself unable to articulate the words.

Wren's whole body goes still. The spoon stops halfway to the pot, water hissing against the burner behind her, and for one full second she forgets to breathe at all. "What pictures, baby?" Fern doesn't answer right away. She opens the sketchbook instead, flips past pages of careful, precise drawings, houses and dogs and one recurring sketch of three stick figures holding hands under a tree, until she lands on a page near the back. It's a face. A rough, five-year-old attempt at a face, dark hair, a hard line for a jaw, done in the same grey pencil Fern uses for everything she isn't sure how to name yet.

In large, red, spiky letters that seemed to be blood, the word CRYOGEN were written at the bottom. The creature on it was hideous. Why would anyone keep paintings of hideous things, and take extra care to clean them. Of course, the Alpha… he seemed brutal enough. It simply meant there was another exit. A place he came from daily to clean the place. The cryogen’s eyes were fiery green embers with a black stroke within them.