The Plague Mga Nobela at Kwento

“It’s us.” I turned to her, confused. “What do you mean? We’re not infected.” “Not yet,” she replied, her voice colder than I expected. Her gaze met mine, steady and unnerving. “But this plague… it’s not natural. It’s targeted, deliberate. Look at the profiles again. Do you see the common thread?” I shifted my attention back to the monitor, scrolling through the data. Names, ages, abilities—each member of the pack cataloged with precision. At first glance, they were a random assortment of wolves from different ranks, but then it hit me. My stomach churned.

"What? plague? in the Livoli Village?" "A few days ago, a doctor from the city of Kavros sent an emergency letter to the king informing him of the dangerous situation in Livoli Village. The villagers are infected with a dangerous plague called the Moron Plague. More than 200 people have died and about 400 people have been infected!" said Samuel explained. "Re ... really?" "Impossible!" Owen, Joan and Rupert were amazed at Samuel's explanation. How could it be as if Grandma Lori had predicted what would happen in the future.

She didn't care. The young couple settled on the outskirts of the small village and lived in relative peace. A baby was born, a strong boy, and Vina and Sren named him Nio. But their happiness was short-lived. When Nio was five, his mother died of the red plague. The red plague was a peculiar disease that appeared soon after the discovery of magic. It only affected those who had the spark, and was often fatal. There was no cure and all Sren could do was alleviate her pain and watch his beautiful wife wither before his eyes.

It was horrifying. “What is this? What’s going on?” Rhea asked, her stomach churning at the sight. “There’s going to be a plague,” Grace said grimly. “A very deadly one. It’s not natural—it’s caused by dark magic. It’s spreading fast. And in three days, this entire city will fall.” Rhea’s eyes widened. “Why? What did these people do to deserve this? And what can I do about it?” “You must stop it,” Grace said. “You’re the only one who can.”

“What do you mean a plague? Be precise.” Atlas swallowed hard, his hands shaking slightly as he gestured helplessly. “It starts with fever, then the body weakens rapidly. Wolves can’t shift—some die within days. Healers are overwhelmed. Alpha, it’s moving faster than anyone can control. If it reaches the core packs, it won’t just cripple us—it could wipe us out.” The words dropped into the room like stones into water, sending ripples of dread through the silence that followed. I clenched my jaw. A plague? Now? As if we didn’t already have enough weighing on us.

“I walked fields when the air still stank of ash from Carthage burning. I crossed seas on ships stitched with hide before your world had sails worth the name. I bled at Thermopylae, though I wasn’t Spartan. I watched Rome devour itself and laughed while emperors choked on their own rot.” My breath caught. He said it like someone listing cities he’d vacationed in. Casual. I could hear the rattle of the motel air unit and still believe every word. “And when plague came?” he went on, voice lower. “I fed. Entire streets abandoned to black boils and swollen tongues. No one looked twice at another body carried out. Mortals thought it was disease that emptied their homes. They never knew how much w

“Before my sister… infects everyone.” I cough loudly and let my shoulders shudder for effect. The vampire pales, pulling his shirt up over his nose and mouth. The plague can’t kill a vampire, but he seems to have forgotten that. “Fuck this, I did NOT sign up for dying of plague. Get. Get out of here!” We slip through the gate and I thank vampires’ long lives and memories, even if he hadn’t stopped to think that not much can kill a vampire. There hasn’t been a case of plague in over a hundred years.

Especially having casual conversations like this… Fenrir cannot imagine a better haven than in her arms. “The plague is getting stronger and stronger as it goes on…” she voices her worries with a sigh. “I shall ask the witches to get to the bottom of it.” “I believe this is gonna be a bigger war than that against the rebels.” Akira’s forehead creases, silently agreeing, though she hoped otherwise. Wishful thinking was useless here. She needed strategies, a lead, or any clue at all that could help them discover more about the mysterious plague. At the end of the day, all they knew about it was the growing number of victims and its name—

This plague spread quickly, and the way they had engineered it, it would be airborne. The pathetic humans would cordon off the city, of course. Shut down bridges and tunnels. Close air and boat traffic. And that was exactly what he wanted. They would be locking themselves in to the terror that would follow. Locked in, dying from plague, Kyle and his thousands of minions would unleash a vampire war unlike anything the human race had ever seen. Within a matter of days, they would wipe out all New Yorkers.