The Redo Novels & Stories

I pick the book up from the ground, "Now you shut the doodle oven, and will you please shut that front door of yours before anyone hears you." "I wince as I sit back down the chair, my stomach still stings from where the book hit me. "You are one weird chick. Now give me that book please." I push the book back to him and he opens it to the page of Alpha Reddoxs' family tree. Lines connect to each other, and each name held on a little bit information about them. "Alpha Reddox is a disgrace to the Peredon" Even the description of himself was foul, what poor child he is before.

Vark-Zero stuttered, his mosaic face beginning to tear. ​"There is no original!" Leo roared. "There’s only the current version!" ​Leo didn't try to delete Vark-Zero. He "Updated" him. He poured the Triple-Regret of the modern Vanes into the ancient, bitter static of the Redacted. He showed Vark-Zero the amber-eyed child. He showed him that being redacted wasn't an end, it was an opportunity. ​Vark-Zero’s black eyes flickered. For a micro-second, the static turned into a single soul.

No stone would be left unturned. Red had made their move. Now it was their turn.

"My mate's tongue mentioned running into Editor Benedict multiple times on her fashion tracks." "My ears have never heard of that small pack before," Jordan Reed says, searching his mind carefully as he backs toward the door.

He was completely exhausted as he crashed down on a vacant chair. His phone rang again abruptly. He brought out his phone to see who the caller was, his phone ID showed 'Mr. Red.' Mr. Red was one of the most loyal friend to Vladimir and after a war with werewolves years ago, Mr. Red had volunteered to be in charge of the regional secret house here in Los Angeles.

Consider it compensation. Compensation? I stared at that red admission letter, and my stomach suddenly twisted with a violent cramp. It was physical rejection. Pure nausea. My fingers began to tremble beyond my control. "So you stole my guaranteed admission spot?" "Stole?" My mother lowered the newspaper and frowned, clearly displeased by my choice of words. "That was family resource allocation. We are one family. Why are you dividing everything into yours and mine? Your brother's life is on the line, and you're still fussing over an admission slot?"

A female news anchor's face appeared on the screen, her expression solemn and concerned. "Good evening, I'm Sarah Lee and I have some breaking news for our viewers. A new casino in Clyde, Marion, has been the target of gang violence. According to eyewitnesses, the bar was burnt down by members of a notorious gang in the city. The police are investigating the incident and are warning the public to stay away from the area."

"Well," "A young lady!! What are you doing? Food is so hard to come by in winter, like now!! It's a pity for the hunters who have caught this venison. Many people have difficulty eating the meat—" Margaret spoke without being asked while continuing to make her conscience feel very guilty. Still, those words would only affect Rania in her first life, not the current Rania.

‘I just don’t want to have to see that sick shit again. Even though I killed quite a few people, there was never a time I thought of eating them. Just remembering that left me sick and with the heebie jeebies. ‘But it could help.’ Anna reminds me. ‘And aren’t we trying to show them that we aren’t the enemy?’ ‘No amount of showing will prove that.’ I sigh, leaning forward against the banister in front of me and lifting my gaze to the city beyond again. ‘After everything we’ve done, there is no redemption.’