The Walking Dead Graphic の小説・ストーリー

Like hoppy. The girl wheezed, tried to crawl away, but the bonds held tightly, and her back rested against a tree trunk. Only a few steps separated the victim from the undead. The stench emanating from the Walker became unbearable. The ugly face of a ghoul with traces of earth on rotting skin was distorted by greed. Blue lips stretched out, revealing strong teeth. Someone's husband or father will bite her to death. Someone who loved, suffered, lived, but died and... was reborn into this .

Rendall is still on his knees panting but his eyes are still on it. In the area with no trees, a huge number of werewolves lies. By lying, I mean, dead werewolves who were stacked up.

I stepped back again until there was enough moonlight which helped my vision to properly gaze at the figure in front of me. My heart is beating terribly. The granny’s voice said she couldn't walk, she could only sit on her knees on the ground. However, this figure, I was sure, was standing. My cold sweat was pouring out again for who knows how many times this night. “Please, don't hurt me,” I whispered in fear. “I just… I….” The figure walked forward, welcoming the moonlight so faintly. However, it was enough to make me gasp. She is indeed a grandmother. A grisly, crushed face. The figure smiled, continued to smile until it was so wide as if its mouth had been torn and it didn't hurt for her

Only a few bloodlines survived, hidden among normal wolves. Lucian's hands shake slightly as he rolls the scroll closed. He grabs another. Then another. Each tells similar stories. Lycans mingled with "shadow-born" creatures. Vampires, some scrolls name them. Others call them night-walkers, blood-drinkers, immortal hunters. One scroll shows detailed diagrams. Lucian spreads it flat, weighing the corners with stones. The drawings depict wolves mid-shift, but wrong. Fangs stretch longer than any wolf's. Claws curve like scythes. Eyes glow not silver or gold, but crimson. Or purple. Or colors that don't have names.

His clothes were rumpled, and there were stains on his hands that I recognized as various compounds he used in his work. Todd settled into a vacant seat at the table, clutching a stack of papers covered in his cramped handwriting and detailed sketches. He looked around at the assembled Alphas, clearly intimidated by being in such powerful company. "Good evening, honored Alphas," Todd greeted them with a slight bow of his head. "Thank you for your patience." "What have you discovered?" I prompted, wanting to move things along. Todd spread his papers out on the table where everyone could see. "I have been conducting extensive research on the nightwalker evolution. Specifically, comparing the t