The Walking Dead Novels & Stories

There will be scenes of BDSM dynamic between our Male Lead and Female Lead, so if you aren't into kink or it makes you uncomfortable, please do not read any further. I hope that you enjoy Alpha of the Dead. --Sydney

I demanded, becoming irritated. For a few moments we sat in silence, in a staring competition. I glared at him and he finally gave in and sighed. “There are a few ways. The most common way is to remove an essential organ, such as by beheading or tearing out someone’s heart or lungs. Simply injuring the organ doesn’t work, as werewolves can just heal. But removing it completely is a guarantee for death. Another common way is poisoning by wolfsbane. Our pack sometimes shoots darts filled with wolfsbane at enemies to get it into their bodies quickly. But you can also die from eating it or if it’s pushed into an open wound.”

Jack was known to this strange world just for eleven days, but he spared no chance or opportunity to get to know more. " These people are called Walking Corpse. They look like normal people with depression as if someone has tortured and hurt them to the greatest degree. You might get the impression that they are alive and breathing, but, they are dead from the inside, it's just a strange fluid in their mind that's keeping them alive and reactive to everyone around them. The fluid inside their mind is a poison that circles into the whole body ", Jack explained everything that he was able to study till now. " If you are saying it's a fluid that controls their body and mind, then it can't be bl

Audrey and a small team of Smoke-Walkers—whose wolf-blood provided a high metabolic resistance to the pheromones—had to crawl through the city’s secondary ducts, which were already being choked by white, spider-web-like fungi. In the dark of the vents, Audrey encountered a "Drowned" man—a Glass-Walker who had been taken by the forest weeks ago. He stood in the ventilation shaft, his skin replaced by thick bark, his eyes glowing with a soft, bioluminescent amber. He didn't attack; he just stood there, a living statue.

In the human world, the fall of the Bloodmoon Pack was just news of the bankruptcy of a local investment holding company. But in the Underworld - a shadow market where immortals, ancient monsters and werewolves trade in blood and power - this event is like an atomic bomb explosion.

On the day of his fifth wedding anniversary with Hazel Fresco, Jack Brook was the only one dining in the restaurant. He was about to get up and leave when a waiter, Kai Wallace, walked in carrying his favorite dessert. He was puzzled. “Didn’t you say this was sold out?” Kai panicked. “I’m sorry, Mr. Brook. This is for the room next door. I saw the reservation was under Mrs. Brook’s name, so I figured you two had booked the same room. My mistake.” Jack was stunned. “Wait, so you’re telling me the people in the room next door are with my wife?” That was impossible. Hazel had just texted him, saying that she was still on a business trip abroad and would not be back until the next day.

Seeing my father’s head guard, Zeus snaps the breath out of me. His scarred face home in on us and the man walks towards us with stealthy strides. Ever since I knew the man, Zeus, who was acclaimed by my father to have fought wars of survival and revenge which the scars on his face serve as proof I've never heard his footsteps when walking. That’s why I’ve grown to call him the Walking Dead. His obsidian eyes flash into my face before throwing a brief look at Mrs. Sinai. My body tenses. I don’t know why he's here but him being here means there’s trouble in the paradise.

News about the harsh weather was being reported on all television channels. I thought that Peter would cower at the challenge. After all, he looked like such a weak man. To my surprise, he sent me a video call request before he departed. He had donned thick clothing and carried supplies with him to begin his journey. I sat in a warm room while I watched him walk out into the chilling winds and snow. Zachary presented me a bowl of chicken soup he had boiled for me. "Have some of this to keep yourself warm."

The smell of blood still clung to my skin, even though none of it was mine. Nobody spoke. Not even hoodie guy, who up until now seemed incapable of shutting up. We were just a group of survivors walking through the fog like ghosts, too shell-shocked to breathe too loud. I counted four of us left. Out of about ten. Ten people got on that bus, and now—only four. A gate appeared ahead of us, tall and rusted, half-bent like something had rammed into it before. Beyond it was a faint light blinking but steady. My pulse quickened. It looked almost… safe.

The sound of the first Terraforming-Walker wasn't a roar; it was the structural scream of the planet itself. As the four-legged titan crested the Steel-Hills, its massive weight—millions of tons of rusted, ancient alloy—shattered the ice shelf of the coastline. The vibration traveled through the marrow of the survivors' bones, a low-frequency hum that threatened to shake the very breath from their lungs. The village of Evergreen, a patchwork of hope and scrap metal, looked like a child’s toy in the path of a hurricane. The violet projection of the Mother flickered in the sky above the walker, her face distorted into a mask of digital agony and madness.