Tomes Novels & Stories

It was nearly empty, save for a few scattered tables, their metal legs rusted at the joints. Large sheets of paper, yellowed at the edges and curling from the moisture in the air, lay sprawled across the surfaces, marked with lines, symbols, and notes detailing plans for the mission ahead. Beneath our feet, the floor was wet in places, holding shallow pools of water. The dampness clung to our boots, seeping into the soles, making the ground feel colder than it should have been.

My eyes catch on a symbol projected from one of the tomes onto the whiteboard. My spine snaps straight, and my mouth drops open, my ears straining with effort to catch up with what Mr. Barnes is saying. “…of the darkest kind. This tome is a high commodity in necromancy due to its untapped power. One of the reasons it has been banned from being accessed.” Silence falls, and Mr. Barnes’s gaze falls on the back of the class. He releases a long sigh. “Yes, Mr. Crowe?” “So, for what other reason has the Tome of Death been banned?” Luca quips.

Abigail groaned and turned away, muttering something about idiots and early funerals. Tunde patted the small shard hidden inside his vest pocket. It was jagged, faintly warm to the touch. Most Adrium had to be mined raw and refined before it was stable. But this piece—this one glowed faintly, like it had already been through the forge. Maybe it was worth something. Maybe enough. ……………………………… Tunde pushed open the tin door of their shack just as the last of the sunlight died. Inside, the shadows felt thicker than usual. A single candle flickered in a cracked jar. His mother lay still, her breathing labored, lips dry.

0f course, he did. I give Julien a weakened smile and we exchange a few sentences of small talk before I thank him for driving ways here. Waving goodbye from the window as he slips into his car again, I pretend not to rush to the unknown contents that hide inside the white-encased box. There are cursive letters in black, engraved into the cardboard material, reading Matériau Féminin. Gnawing on the skin of my lip, all I do is shake mny head at a parallel memory that comes into mind when we spent time together in this very store, replacing the various lingerie of mine that he has ripped.

Ellie clutched a sodden map, her knuckles white. “Brazil. Scotland. Japan. Egypt. Rome,” she muttered, scanning Voss’s scribbled notes. “They’re waking up everywhere. All at once.” Dr. Voss tightened the ropes of the sail. Her face was pale but determined. “The Chimera was never singular. It was a herald. And heralds are never alone.” Cerebus stood at the bow, fur plastered by rain, three heads scanning the darkness. Alpha was still. Beta watched the horizon. Gamma growled at the storm.

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They were appalled at the stories they heard of how toms treated their no-furs and kits. Hell, Ink was pretty appalled himself from what he'd seen after he left the Orangelo homeland. His people were somewhat isolated from the rest of the continent and had their own traditions and ideals that weren't so different from the Hares. But they also still had tom Omegas, something that every other variety of tom had long since lost. Ink wasn't sure why. The histories weren't super clear on anything other than suddenly toms stopped being born as Omegas and the old gods sent the no-furs to replace them.

Tik tok Tik tok Tik tok And the time is continuously ticking because I know once it stops, Ross is dead and I am sorry for him, because there is no backing out and I assure myself that his life will end today.