Ultimate Abandoned Novels & Stories

"You can only choose how the 'Credits' roll." --- The "Liquidator"—a manifestation of the System’s final cleanup—has arrived at the border! The world outside has been deleted, and now the "Void" is eating the Iron Mountain itself. Elara and Silas are ruling a kingdom that is literally shrinking by the second. How do you fight a ghost who holds the watch that counts down to the end of time?**

Gracias I say nothing. Not a word. Not a sigh. Not even a tear. He walks me back to my black car — silent, leather warm, engine purring softly. The windows are tinted. The world stays outside. "If you need anything at all… call me." He hands me a card. Matte paper, off-white, sober, almost solemn. A gilded initial. A phone number. Nothing else. No name. Just a suspended promise. I take it the way one grabs a rope at the edge of the void.

In my previous life, I died trapped in their schemes. In this life, I would never fall for them again. After I left, my parents kept wailing behind me. From time to time, Mrs. Hale passed along updates. She said Liam refused to leave their home and treated it like his own, while my parents had become his live-in servants. Tara gave birth to another baby boy named Frankie Brooks, and that sealed my parents' and Sophie's fate. They couldn’t escape even if they wanted to.

A faint blue screen floated right in front of my eyes: [Apocalypse Hoarding System Activated] [Countdown to Global Sub-Zero Event: 59 Days, 21 Hours, 59 Minutes] [Initial Spatial Storage Unlocked] [Current Task: Liquidate all non-essential assets and hoard maximum survival resources.]

she said. “What is it?” She kissed her bite mark on me. Agonising and deafening screams rang in my ears. A civilization flashed in front of my eyes. The ultimas. They were so much more developed and modernised than us. The fertile, prosperous islands of the ultimas were brought to ruin in a matter of a few days. People were hunted down by some beastly silhouettes. Some demonic forces. Stench of blood, ashes and fire.

“Now stop the games. Come for what you really want.” He then stepped towards the camera, getting really close. “You want me? You want the Alpha position? Fine, I’m calling you out, the abandoned warehouse on the east edge of the old shipping district. 8 pm. Just you and I, no tricks, no games. Man to man, the way it should be.” Another pause, then his jaw tightened. “And Blackwood, come prepared.” With that, he stepped back from the platform, and the camera light turned off.

I am Rey Reed Smith, the last of the reaper's hunters and the wielder of the soul nectar. Taking another deep breath, I quickened my pace as the noise of those stupid crowds grew more intense. It was the same sound I'd grown accustomed to; it meant one of their most vicious and important players was about to slay his victims. My plan is simple. I will just brag into the arena ground, slaughter their players, rescue my team, kill the bastard, Ryan, and find my way out. I knew that with my newfound power, I was invisible to any weapons they were welding and that none of their players, not even Ryan, were a match for my abilities now.

He smirked devilishly and held the bracelet before pulling it off harshly causing it to break. My eyes widened when I saw it broken. "Now, you want it still huh?" He smirked and throw it through the tall grass, I didn't even saw where it fell. I felt that pang on my chest, it's heavy... And it's hurting too much. My sight started to blur when tears filled my eyes, but I immediately wiped it off, memories of myself with my family back then came flashing to my mind as if it only happened yesterday. But my parents died five years ago already.

to the ends of the continent. ​The "Dead-Zones" were the areas of the South that had never been "Awakened" by the Great Broadcast—industrial wastelands where the soil was poisoned and the air was thick with the residue of a hundred years of unregulated manufacturing. This was the headquarters of the "Remnant-Syndicate," a group of elite Council-loyalists who had refused to transition to the "New-North" model.

In the ambulance, with his wounds being treated, he finally allowed himself to relax. "It's over," she whispered, squeezing his hand. Sebastian brought her fingers to his lips. "No," he corrected gently. "It's just beginning." "Good," Cecilia said with a smile that held no fear, only anticipation. "I'm ready for whatever comes next." On the ambulance's small television, breaking news flashed across the screen: "SUPERNATURAL CULT DISMANTLED: Multi-state operation brings down dangerous organization targeting werewolf communities."