The Stranger Albert Camus Novels & Stories

Camille: I blinked once, then twice, but nothing changed. There was still a naked stranger standing in my kitchen and other strangers doing god knows what all over the house. “You can pick up from where she left off,” the stranger said, taking a bottle of liquor beside him and swallowing it in one gulp. “She was doing a shit job anyway. You look like you’ll know how to get me off.” “I’m not, eww,” I said, turning away and covering my eyes. Unfortunately, I had already looked at it and the thickness of it was imprinted in my memory.

"You're quite curious about why you are here. I'll tell you everything...in time." Camille's heart raced. "Who are you? Why am I here?" The stranger smiled, his eyes glinting. "All will be revealed. For now, rest. You'll need your strength." He turned to leave, but Camille's desperate cry stopped him. "Who the hell are you? How the fuck did you know my name." "Always proving sturborn, huh." He smirked. With that, he exited. Camille's mind raced as she assessed her surroundings. The room was sparse, with no visible cameras or microphones. She searched for any clues, but found none. The door was solid, with no visible lock or handle.

“I'm sure you understand that I am putting a tremendous amount of trust in you by telling you all this. I was initially... hesitant to hire you when I looked into your financial background. Of course, I wouldn’t have brought you here if I’d assumed you were some kind of con artist, but you can never know until you meet somebody. And sometimes even then…” I could tell he was being careful not to offend me, but he didn’t need to be. I understood completely. I was practically a stranger. He knew nothing about me. If I wanted to, what was to stop me from grabbing the cash and running off the moment he was gone? I wouldn’t do that, of course, but he had no way of knowing that. Not for sure anyway

A woman stands on the balcony of her apartment in a white kimono wrapped around her body and a small towel over her head. His eyes were staring at the traffic jam from the balcony. Her lips did not stop swearing curses of the man who last night made hot love with her. "Damn Ell." His parents hit the iron fence in front of him irritated and then grimaced because his hand felt sick. "AIORAAAAAAAAA!" Jena's loud shout this morning made him even more annoyed.

the stranger ignores her question and walks closer. Keira stares at him confusingly and laughs, “It's too late, I already did.” The man doesn't say anything, he just keeps staring at her. “Who are you? Are you a cop?” whispers the girl. “Do I look like one?” the stranger. “Do you know what will happen if you turn yourself in? You will spend the rest of your life in prison.” Keira gulps and wonders how a stranger knows about her crime and her decision. “Who are you?!” she shouts with a shaky voice.

“If her head wasn’t attached to her shoulders, she’d lose that too. Regardless I’m glad to see you, Ivy.” “Thank you, Alpha Cassius,” I said. For a moment, he simply watched me, something like longing and sadness flickering behind his eyes before he caught himself, glancing toward the door instead and nodding at someone. “Bring it in, thank you,” he said, settling back into his chair. “He’s acting strange,” Lux murmured. “Like he’s seeing something in you he can’t quite look away from.” “I know,” I replied silently. “I just wish he’d actually tell me what it is.”

No one moved. Cassian stared at the stranger. The stranger stared back. For several seconds, Arielle could hear nothing except the soft breathing of the children behind her. Then Cassian spoke. What does that mean? The stranger's eyes remained on him. It means you are not the beginning of your own story. Cassian's expression hardened. I know my story. Do you? The stranger took one step forward. You remember being born. You remember meeting Arielle. You remember becoming her husband. You remember losing your power.

Chapter 44: The Stranger’s Sacrifice The battlefield was no longer a place of geography; it was a graveyard of concepts. Where once there were mountains and air, there were now only jagged scars in the firmament where reality had been deleted. The mysterious stranger stood at the epicenter, his feet planted on ground that was rapidly losing its consistency. He was no longer the composed, enigmatic observer who had arrived chapters ago. His trench coat was tattered, not from physical combat, but from the attrition of existing too close to the "Certainty." His skin was pale, translucent, as if he were being scrubbed out of existence one layer at a time.

Alan slowly pushed himself upright while gripping his injured shoulder tightly and for a moment neither of them looked away from each other as if something silent was passing between them that Matt and I could not hear. “You,” Alan muttered finally while breathing hard. The stranger gave a small nod before suddenly lifting the rifle again and firing another shot directly past Alan into the corridor behind us where one of the creatures had nearly reached the doorway. The creature exploded backward into the others with a horrible shriek while the stranger’s voice remained completely calm. “Move,” he said sharply while stepping aside. “Unless you want to stay here with them.” That was enough to

“Urghh!” I grumbled out of frustration as I watch the tattooed stranger drive out of my street. The jerk made me beg him for sex only to turn me down, apparently he had a child to take care of and couldn’t stay but still didn’t make any attempt to ask for my number or even give his, such a jerk. I hissed and headed inside my tiny apartment, the emptiness welcomed me once again. It’s always been just me ever since Henry got hospitalized, we lived together after my graduation.