Three Walkers Novels & Stories

The walkers were dead and their bodies were burning. Underneath the smell of burning wood and roof tiles was the distinct scent of hot flesh decaying and singeing as the fire burned harder and faster. “Lamia!” Travis balks, reaching us. “What the fuck happened?” He takes me in, covered in blood, the crimson liquid running down my blade where it rolls, and drops of blood splash to the ground. “It was cruel to let them live like that,” I tell him calmly as he stares at me with wide eyes and a look of disbelief mixed with disgust.

"We have come this far to save our land, risking everything. We understand the burden of power, the responsibility it carries. Let us prove ourselves to you." A tense silence lingered in the air as the werewolves pondered their offer. Finally, the leader nodded, an agreement etched into their eyes. "You will be tested. Show us your commitment." And so, the werewolves led them deep into the heart of their territory, a labyrinth of dense forests and treacherous terrain. The trio followed their canine guides, overcoming every obstacle thrown their way. Suspense and anticipation danced through the air as Amelia, Luna, and Asher proved their worth, their determination unyielding.

“I think I fell through a portal because this place doesn’t look at all familiar.” Goddess. I don’t know a thing about the places she mentioned. I never heard about a Third Realm and certainly never heard anything about portals. She sounds genuine and devastated, she just said that her whole village was murdered. “I don’t know anything about portals or the places you mention.” I answered. “I can tell you where you are right now, on Earth, in the territory my pack resides on, Grey Moon pack.” “What is a pack?” She asked. “We are a pack of shifters, Werewolves.”

"You chatted, and now she's visiting our house?" The Walkers were a powerful family, far beyond the Smiths, who were merely the wealthiest in Johnsonville. Forming a connection with the Walkers could greatly benefit the Smith family. Henry was both surprised and excited by Mrs. Walker's personal visit. He was eager to understand Wendy's relationship with her.

I let out a bitter laugh, though my patience wore thin. “Why would they interfere with you? You think I’d waste my time on your petty affairs?” I raised my eyebrows. His silence spoke volumes, and I could feel the tension crackle between us like a gathering storm. Whatever he was here for, it wasn’t going to end well. “Three of my Walkers have died,” Morpheus informed me, his voice low and measured, yet carrying the weight of an unspoken accusation. I crossed my arms, leaning back slightly as my brows knitted together in irritation. “And that’s somehow our problem?”

There was a reply to her message, "I said I wanted three million, but you only gave me five hundred thousand. Do you think that's enough to convince me? I won't divorce you until I get three million." Whoever it was must really want the money that the person forgot to impersonate me. It was my habit to end my sentences with an ellipsis. However, whoever was messaging Lori had forgotten about it. Lori finally realized something was wrong. She typed in three question marks before asking, "Are you really Chad? Why does it feel like you're not him?" Lori sent the message, but there was no reply. She looked flustered and started mumbling, "This isn't possible. Chad is fine. Someone must have used

I found that oddly surprising. Soon, her voice sounded again—low, exhausted, and powerless. “But that’s three million dollars. Why couldn’t you just hold yourself back? If Graham could back then, why can’t you?” She said the last sentence so softly that I almost thought I’d imagined it. Before I could think further, Zack spoke up, his tone filled with disdain. “So what if it’s three million? Lucy, don’t forget, it was me who notarized your assets. That’s why Graham walked out with nothing. Do you have any idea how much money I’ve saved you from losing?”

The problem wasn’t over yet, but at least he’s gone for now. I turned slowly to face him again. His gray eyes, sharp and cold, were fixed on me. For a split second, I felt exposed, like he could see straight through me and through my thoughts. “I… thank you,” I said quickly, bowing and forcing a smile. “And… I’m sorry for the trouble.” “That’s the third time,” he murmured, almost under his breath, before turning and walking away. I stood frozen in time for a moment, watching his facade fade down the hallway. The words echoed in my mind. The third time? My pulse skipped. Does he actually remember me? My chest tightened as I realized what just happened. Or am I just possibly overthinking thing

"They slaughtered them all. Every alpha, beta, omega, and pup. They burned their stone halls, salted their lands, and struck their name from every history book and registry. The Onyx Fang was declared dead, turned into a ghost story to frighten children who didn't want to shift. This symbol... it was worn by their elite guard, who were called the Dread walkers. They were the pack's personal executioners." My breath hitched. Dread walkers.’ The name echoed violently in my mind, acting like a key that unlocked a tiny, terrifying memory from my recurring nightmare. The figure leaning over me, the heavy pressure on my chest, the cold voice whispering... The Dread walkers return for what is owed.