The Outsider Novels & Stories

Everyone lived by it. Don’t get noticed by Knox Cole. And I broke it. Me! The outsider, the one abnormality that had stepped into their lives, into their world. A charity case, a quota. Names that they had called me, names that had slowly become my identity. I broke that rule.

"Dylan Skinner, you're under investigation for intentional harm and illegal organ trafficking. You need to come with us." My mother's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's impossible! My son just had a kidney transplant. He was only discharged today. How could he hurt anyone, let alone traffic organs?" My father shook his head, looking at Dylan lying pale on the bed. "My son has been weak since he was a kid. He barely even socializes. How would he have the chance to do something like that? You've got the wrong person!" Janice's voice trembled as she spoke. "Then can you tell me where Curtis is right now?"

In my spare time, I signed up for a blog under a fake name and wrote random musings no one would ever read. Having all these was enough for me. … Graduation season arrived as scheduled. While everyone else had family to help them move out, I hauled my peeling suitcase and headed straight for the neighborhood slums. The little money I had was only enough for a dark, dank basement. The landlady, Isabella Donati, looked like a sharp-tongued old crone. To save 50 dollars on rent, I took over the snow shoveling and trash removal for the entire run-down apartment building.

One minute, he was my tormentor, the next, my shadow. When we reached the outskirts of the forest, my stomach dropped. Bad luck must have been written all over me tonight because standing there, leaning against a rusted lamppost, was the last person I wanted to see—Jonan and his gang of pricks. “Well, well, look who finally decided to crawl out of the woods.” Jonan grinned, his dark eyes locking onto mine with the same sick amusement I’d grown used to. “What were you doing out there, wolfless? Trying to summon your non-existent wolf?”

I suppose given time their colors would possibly show but until then I will attempt to believe that this Cyrus guy was decent. I set my apartment keys on the kitchen table and hoped that Jem wasn’t going to move them by morning. Why was my life so strange and complicated when it came to the paranormal shit? Why did this happen to me? Of all people, why me? I hardly had any friends to really enjoy a decent day with and when I told them about my ability to “See” the other side. They ended up never speaking to me ever again. It hurt but like all other things I moved on. I hated being alone in all this and not having somebody to talk to about these strange and weird situations. To have someone r

"Irene! They're our parents! How could you be so cold-blooded now? Even if Mom and Dad were in the wrong, what they did can't possibly be punishable by death, can it? They're your family—" I interrupted him. "You are a family. You all treated me like an outsider and punched and kicked me half to death. Were you thinking of me as a member of your family back then?" Isaac's ragged breathing came through the line, but he said nothing. Finally, he broke down and cried out desperately, "Rene, I was horrible to you back then. I was a terrible bastard! "But Mom and Dad are lying in the hospital now, and Vivian stole all the money and Mom's jewelry in the house and disappeared with them all!

From this vantage point, high on the other side of the narrow valley, I can easily spy on the Alphas as they play with their little toy. But these are no ordinary inhabitants of the Zone. This is clear from the omega's short hair and the leather boots on his feet. She is an Outsider and also one of the Alphas. I hate strangers. I kill Outsiders. Nothing else brings me more pleasure. It's a pity that treacherous creatures rarely venture into the Zone. Opportunities to get revenge are very rare. But this opportunity is too good to pass up. Outsider's blood will be spilled tonight. Crawling slowly, the sound of my movements masked by the rain, I pull away from the edge of the broken road and ma

Serena felt dirty, it turned her stomach to think she was almost raped by a drunk man, wanting to tell Alex that she was fine, she found herself the moment she opened her mouth, throwing up every contents in her belly, she felt weak and almost wanted to fall when Alex quickly held her.

Jaxon thought about that. He told Callum about a movie he'd watched three times his freshman year, a quiet film about a man driving across the American southwest after something had ended, nothing dramatic happening in it, just the road and the landscape and the particular quality of someone in between one version of their life and whatever came next. He'd watched it alone in his apartment three times because something in it had reached a feeling he hadn't had language for at eighteen, which was the feeling of being in a life that had been arranged for him and not quite knowing where in it he was actually living.

I don't know if my thoughts swing towards malnourishment because I offered her food, but I hate myself for thinking that way. "Thank you," she says again, holding her cup in both hands. Unsure if I should really be acknowledged for such a small gesture, I just give a small nod. I step outside while she eats and walk down the narrow walkway outside the restaurant. People walk to and fro, in and out of the restaurant and others just walk by. I throw my hands into the pockets of my hoodie, looking around the place. Some days I do this— I just stare around without knowing what I'm looking for and sometimes inspiration finds me by little things, like the old man sitting on the other side of the r