Ultimate Abandoned Novels & Stories

“It’s not over…” The void pulsed ominously, and the last words of the system echoed around her: The final choice has been made… but the game is eternal.

"My mind pulling together an imaginary image in an effort to see the face I was talking to. I'm sure my doctors could find a million similar cases for others in my state." ​My excitement dwindles as I look at her, her face strained with exhaustion and sadness. Hope was a feeling she'd been living without for so long that she couldn't even muster it up at this moment. It was sad that she'd been burned so many times she no longer tried or cared... she didn't seem to care. And when I thought about it, Iris didn't seem to care about much of anything. She didn't seem to have any friends or family she cared about.

He always knew everything. Not getting a response from me, he resorted to his last card. "Promise me you'll try?" he demanded wearily. I wanted to promise, but I couldn't... Nick died just a year ago, and I still remember him every single day. To overcome his death would be to overcome him and forget him. I could never do that. Instead of a promise I couldn't keep, I opted for a comfortable lie, even though I knew he wouldn't believe it. It would serve to leave me alone for a while.

"But that's sudden. We just got into a partnership. You're just going to throw it away?" I pulled her fingers off me and stepped away. "It's in its final phase. My partner can handle the rest. I have another project to handle." My stepping away hurt her heart. She stared at me, dazed. Lauren extended her trembling hand, and it hung in midair. Her instincts told her I was not coming back, but she asked, "When are you coming home?" I shook my head and put on a smile. "Never." Sorrow crept onto her face. She stared at me in disbelief. She kept trying to grab me, but I kept moving back, so she stopped. Like an abandoned puppy, she did not have the courage to move forward to someone who had just

"Given the way things are, this is the only way you can stand a chance against your uncle." Winter gave a slight nod. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, a voice rang out from the neighboring table. "I just saw a breaking update. Everlast Tech has gone bankrupt." The moment those words reached them, Winter and Elijah were both taken aback. They turned their heads to the side.

Minutes later, his fingers froze over the screen, “Boss.” Matthew looked over, and Antonio slowly turned the tablet toward us, satellite imagery appeared directly in the center of the triangle. An abandoned church, registered under a company that no longer officially existed. Matthew’s gaze shifted toward me, “You found it,” he said simply. And somehow… Those three words meant even more than the respect he’d given me the night before.

Everything that couldn’t be digitized, laundered, or burned. I stood on the cliff where the fortress used to be. Only scorched earth remained, and one twisted I-beam jutting toward the sky like a broken finger. The wind smelled of salt and endings. Dante came up behind me, arms sliding around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder. “It’s done,” he said quietly. I leaned back into him. “Almost.” I pulled the satellite phone from my pocket. Dialed. One ring. Zurab answered, voice like gravel over glass.

Time to end this one way or another. ***

If he cried, their world collapsed. The night I returned home, Carson couldn't accept it. After a dramatic breakdown, he climbed to the edge of the rooftop and screamed, "I've been abandoned! No one wants me anymore! I might as well die so Dad, Mom, and Jason can finally live happily together!" My parents lost their minds. Scrambled up to coax him down, then wouldn't leave his side for a second. Dad and Mom fed him fruit and snacks, coaxing him to eat, while I sat dizzy with hunger, ignored completely.

The morning sun cast long, unforgiving shadows across the apartment's living room, illuminating the wreckage of a life built on sand. The discarded remnants of the celebratory dinner—a half-empty bottle of champagne, a crumpled tablecloth, and the sad, congealed mess of salmon on the floor—were a brutal testament to the previous night’s collapse.