The Orphan Collector Novels & Stories

*SOMEWHERE IN MEXICO* It was a cool and breezy evening, while the children were still outside playing and doing some other activities when Kol pulled up in a space a few miles away from the orphanage home. Kol first got down and went into the building to make requirements before Mr Followed shortly. Kol had the head Nun hand over their record book to his boss since he had insisted on making the search himself, so he did the necessary thing by taking the Nun outside the office to give his boss some privacy.

Really look. See the twelve-year-old boy who lost a family. See the man who built an empire on that wound. See the collector who can't stop collecting. "I told you I was a collector, Isla. I just didn't tell you I was collecting heads. Marcus's father destroyed my chance at a family. Now I'm destroying his."

“Each one is a different experiment. Different DNA, different stressors, different harvests. The North was just the one that turned to iron. In the East, they turned to water. In the South, they turned to the storm. And the Harvesters… they were just the collection crew.” ​I looked at the map, my stomach turning. The world wasn’t a wasteland; it was a laboratory. And we were just one Petri dish among hundreds. ​“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, my voice low. ​“Because the collection failed here,” the Librarian said, turning his milky eyes to mine. “And when a collection fails, the Owners don’t just walk away. They send a Clean-Up Crew. And they won’t use resonance or seeds. They will u

Before I could get results on my first F******k search, my phone started ringing. A call from an unknown caller. I hesitated to pick up the call, and before I made up my mind to answer it, the call ended. Then I sighed in relief. Again while on a F******k search, the unknown caller rang back. This time I didn't hesitate to respond to the call. Upon picking up the call, I was met by silence. Then I went first, "Hello.. who I'm I talk.." before I could finish my line, a male's voice intercepted, "It's Jack, I found your wallet and keys, just want to give them back."

“What’s the matter?” “Something is not right. We need to hurry.” Without so much a chance to ask a question she wrapped us in her white smoke and warmed us with her travel. We emerged at a field outside of school grounds on a tall hill that overlooked the area in which West Ora was hidden. “What are we doing here?” I asked, answered with utter silence. Feeling frustrated, I turned, ready to snap at Petra for being so vague, but when I caught sight of Auggie’s body on the floor and Elara on full melt down my body lost all its lust.

—the stolen histories of a thousand fallen civilizations. ​In the center of the ship was the Collector, a being that looked like a thousand mirrors stitched together. Every mirror showed a different version of a "Failed Vane." ​"You... are... 'Un-Scripted'..." the Collector hissed, the mirrors on its body spinning. "You have no... 'Data-Value'. Why... do you... 'Resist'?" ​"Because we’re the 'Trash' of the universe," Leo said, his white eyes flaring. "And we’re tired of being collected."

Kael, Nora, and Elia stepped out into an atmosphere that felt like a warm summer evening on Earth. ​"Welcome to the Oort Sanctuary," Nora Davis said, her projection manifesting physically before them. She looked at her namesake—Young Nora—with a gaze that was both loving and terrifyingly detached. "You’ve done well to survive the Friction. But the Solar System is a dying garden. The Sovereign-Swarm isn't the enemy; they are the Gatherers. They are helping me harvest the essence of Earth before the sun begins its final, inevitable decay." ​The Grand Betrayal

However, he had been struck by a collapsing beam and never made it out alive. After Dad sacrificed his life, Uncle Winston had taken pity on me for losing my father at such a young age. He'd also remembered that Craig was the child my father had saved at the cost of his life. Hence, he had continued to sponsor Craig's education and living expenses, paying for his food, clothing, and tuition; he'd treated him like his son.

One Blackridge wolf didn’t move fast enough and the thing tore him apart before anyone could reach him. Theo shouted something I couldn’t hear properly over the screaming below. The First Queen spoke quietly beside me. “That’s a collector.” I looked at her sharply. “A what?” “The Hollow creates them when too many souls break free from containment.” Her gaze stayed fixed on the battlefield. “They gather what escapes.” My stomach twisted violently. “You mean the dead wolves.” “Yes.” Another scream echoed through the city as the collector slammed a corpse through the side of a ruined building before turning toward the living wolves again.