Tommy Dead 소설 & 이야기

I slapped a hand over my mouth, hot tears carving silent tracks down my cheeks. As the Alpha of the Winterstone Pack, Billy's senses were unnervingly sharp. He already knew something was wrong. "He's not dead," I whispered, my voice barely a breath. "Ford isn't dead, Billy. It was Aiden." The line was silent for three seconds. "Are you sure?" "I heard him myself," I bit my lip. "He let Aiden die for him, and now he's hiding right under my nose, pretending to be his own brother."

The room temperature seemed to drop instantly. An invisible fear enveloped us. Just then, Poppy’s smartwatch, which she had been fiddling with, finally connected to Castiel’s phone. “Daddy, hurry home! Zombies are in the base!” Hearing his daughter’s words, Castiel grew impatient. “Stop spouting nonsense! How could zombies suddenly get into the base? Daddy is busy. Can you please stop bothering me?” June urgently shouted into the phone, “Castiel, we’re not spouting nonsense! Zombies are already inside the base! Hurry back with reinforcements and save us!”

It was a carefully planned "accident" that made me lose my child and my consciousness. Meanwhile, the mastermind lived her days in peace. With a quick glance at Zachary, I said, "Show him that video." Zachary nodded, then turned the television on. In the video, a man lifted his identification and tried to avoid the camera. Upon hearing the warning that was said to him, he spoke up in a shaky voice. "Hitting Riley because of drunk-driving wasn't an accident. Selena Tanner was the one who told me to do so.

Victoria Marshall. That was my name. Today marked 312 days since I died. I couldn't let go, so my soul had been lingering in this world. However, my husband, Noah Carlson, showed up at my doorstep with a bunch of burly men, shattering the peace of the countryside. He glanced around with a face full of disdain.

The air was thick with the smell of decay, and the silence was unsettling. “We’re not alone,” Ethan said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. I followed his gaze and saw the movement in the shadows—infected, lurking just out of sight. There were more of them than I expected, their twisted, decayed forms blending into the wreckage around us. “Stay close,” Ethan said, his hand brushing against my arm as he moved forward. The first infected lunged at us with a guttural growl, and Ethan reacted instantly. His powers flared, a burst of energy knocking the creature back before it could get too close. The rest of the team sprang into action, weapons firing as the infected swarmed toward us.

The blood had nearly stopped flowing. The position of his right hand was strange; his fingers curled as if trying to grasp something. I crouched down. In his open left hand, written crookedly in blood, was a single word: "Run". 02:14. One minute left. 02:15 came. Nothing happened. I was still alive. "Substitute death successful. Eric Dawson was killed at 2:14 in Parking Lot C. Remaining loop time: 48 hours. "Go to Parking Lot C. There’s something for you."

The temperature in the bunker seemed to drop to absolute zero. I stared at the screen, my jaw clenching until my teeth ached. Marcus had been with Thorne Industries for ten years. He was a man I had trusted, a man I had given millions in stock options. And he had sold my life to Victoria Vance for a percentage of a dying syndicate. "He is dead," I growled, the raw, savage dominance of my bloodline taking over.

This reminded me of Brayden and tears rolled down my cheeks at the memories. “Valley, it’s gonna be ok. I called Dad. I called 911. Stay with me” Tommy said as my eyes met his. I coughed and could feel the blood in the back of my throat. I let out a pained groan and started closing my eyes. I felt like I was leaving my body. “VALLEY! DON’T DIE ON ME VALLEY! PLEASE!” Tommy called out as my breathing slowed down. “S…s..sorry T…Tom..Tom..”

I prop my phone on a stack of coasters, hit GO LIVE on the Riverbend Buy-N-Sell F******k group, and blow the camera a kiss. “Evening, y’all. Place your bets and your loads. Clock starts now.” First up is Tommy Lee, diesel mechanic, grease still under his nails. He drops his jeans, lines up, and slides home in one thrust. I’m already wet from the tequila shots and the sheer filth of what I’m doing. He groans like he’s dying, pumps exactly eight times, and unloads so hard I feel it splash my cervix. One. He pulls out, slaps my clit with his sloppy cock, and writes a fresh tally on my thigh with the Sharpie chained to the table. The chat explodes, 73 fire emojis in ten seconds.

Nonetheless, Tommy had done everything of his own volition because he didn't want the loan shark to harvest his organs. On his way back home, Tommy broke down when he saw his sex videos playing on the big LCD screen in front of the nightclub. The road was filled with crowds taking photos of the LCD screen, commenting on his moaning and flexibility. Although some of the videos were censored, everyone could tell Tommy had sex with a man. The worst part was he wasn't even gay.