The Walking Dead Novels & Stories

For Nicholas, the barcode was a blessing in disguise when because of it, all the werewolves were prohibited to do bad things, not just for their kind but for the humans as well. For that same reason, furious and hungry wolves, who love to stain their sharp claws and fangs with drops of blood, especially those ruthless alphas and Lunas have been dormant for years similar to a puppet. And he hasn’t heard any news about those merciless killings, colonization of other packs, and those unreasonable tortures all over the city.

The pungent smell of their bodies was so strong that Aiden could smell it from so far out. “Walkers!” Aiden soon realised what they were once he spotted them. Walkers were the lowest form of Undead. They were easy to deal with for any strong Beastman and usually Aiden would not have bothered with them, but he was currently injured and could barely move a muscle. He wouldn’t be able to deal with them! This wasn’t the right time!

He was so bad at lying that he stuttered his way through that sentence, but Willow seems to be more interested in another thing. "Oh boy, how I wish I could do that too." She sounded really envious, but Allen doesn’t understand what he meant. "Walking at night?" He asked in confusion. Willow halted from walking and nodded. "Do you know how dangerous it is to walk alone at night, especially if you’re a woman? There’s a lot of stuff happening all over the news. There are a lot of people who have gone missing too. But I do share your thoughts about late night walks. Morning can really be overwhelming." Allen suddenly felt guilty, even though it wasn’t him who committed the act. Most of what Wil

I returned to the manor shrouded in night, the forged Blood Covenant Certificate still clutched in my trembling hands. A Blood Covenant Certificate is the official decree granted to every vampire couple who completes the Crimson Bond Rite. It was the document that proved I was his wife in the eyes of our world. Without it, I was nothing. I forced down the chill rising in my chest, but before I could push open the doors, I heard Ethan’s voice drifting from the study, low and deliberate, speaking with his adjutant.

Leslie groaned awake as Tara and Zak dragged a table across the shattered window and braced it with chairs. “Tom? You can’t be out of bed,” Leslie said, pushing up on her elbows. “Jakey, what’s happening? What are those animals?” “Werewolves,” Jake said, eyes not leaving the hall. “They’re real.” Tara peeled a slat of the front blinds. “They’re everywhere,” she whispered. “Sniffing. Hunting.” Zak joined her, jaw tight. “Can we make the car?” She checked—froze. “They’re ripping the W.R.X. to pieces.”

That debt had to be settled properly. Three days later, on a stormy night with pouring rain, a battered armored vehicle—barely holding together—smashed through the gates of the villa complex. Callie and Dan crawled out of the car, covered in mud and looking utterly miserable. Behind them, more than a dozen mutated zombies were chasing them. “Help! Is anyone there? Help!” Callie screamed, her voice hoarse. Dan gripped a machete in his hand, but it was useless against mutated zombies.

Leneve sighs again and I can feel the sadness of the situation rolling off her. “They are shells,” I tell them seeing them for what they are. “Yeah, and when I gave them a drop of my blood, they turned feral, like starved creatures,” Petra added, leaning over the metal frame of the walkway. “They don’t eat. They don’t sleep. They don’t talk or communicate in any way that we know of.” “They aren’t like the Changelings, they have a soul these things don’t,” Leneve adds. “The Changelings crave blood but aren’t driven by the taste or hunger for it. These ‘walkers’ are.”

As Vincent's soft breathing turned into light snores, I carefully reached for his phone, pressing his finger against the sensor to unlock it. His messages with Emma Ortega popped up immediately. Vincent: [Good news—Sophia might be pregnant. Once we get the baby's umbilical cord blood, you'll be cured.] Emma: [Really? That's amazing! When I'm healthy again, what do you plan to do with her and the child?] Vincent: [Don't worry. Once everything is over, I'll send them away. They won't interfere with your life.]

It seemed even the military personnel had realized that the zombies were simply impossible to wipe out. The neighborhood was quiet, but abnormally so. We occasionally heard some zombie roars, and there was no one alive in sight. Joyce looked out the window curiously at the zombies roaming around outside. "Mommy, why won't they stop walking?" She still couldn't understand life and death. I said cajolingly, "Because they're very ill and can't go home. If you see people like them outside, remember to hide, okay? Or you won't be able to come home, too. Do you understand me?"

She led him with a solemnity that bade everyone else be quiet and grave, also, as he marked the forehead of the first Werewolf. Red went down the line, making a small cut on the pad of each member’s thumb, pressing it into his own corresponding wound, before applying it with small, sure strokes to their foreheads. “This will now mark them as dead, and grant you all of their given powers, for as long as the blood remains.” Grandma intoned. “So now, when you tell their leader that the Pack are all dead, you will not be lying. This will buy you some time.” Red nodded, saying nothing. There was nothing more to say.