Undead Novels & Stories

Elder Lucriel said. “It’s better to be cautious, Elder Lucriel. Don’t underestimate the army of the undead because they are not normal ones. Those undead can use magic too and regenerate itself like those monsters outside.” I said, and they gasped. “Thank you for the warning, Lady Alice.” they all said. After discussing some changes of the plan, I opened a portal then Val, Azrael and I entered.

his voice jerked me back to reality. "hmm can I get your order"I said trying to sound confident, his voice sent me to planet zecury,I don't even know if it exists. "Two pot pies and one smoothie" he said back, with his eyes fixed on me. For the first time I saw genuine admiration and not the usual look of lust I was used to.

"How are you enjoying your new powers?" "Would have felt more better if I didn't have to feed on blood." She laughed, "you realize you're dead, right?" He shrugged a brow, watching her calculated movements. "They call us the undead. Dead but alive. We are the intermediaries between the living world and the dead and so, we are powered by the Life source of the living. The major difference between us, blood." "I need it." "What?" "Blood. I need to drink." Lydia turned around to look at him. His fangs were out and there was the blood crazed look in his eyes.

Which is kind of weird? "Too hasty Aurken, I just gave you an overview for you to understand, the third type I mentioned, which is being reborn with half of one's original age consume, can also drain one's necro if the necro of a reborn is not enough. So talented reborn of this class is because being able to provide the necessary amount of necro in their reborn state, means they have massive amounts of necro." A voice from a seemingly old man. "So basically, what you're trying to say doc is-"

She illustrated. I nodded my head to indicate that I understood what she was saying. I know very much about the dark heart monster they are talking about. His name is Beelzebub, and I have heard how he was revived by one of his servants, the same way Ryan is trying to revive the dark lord of Sensoi. Taking a glance at my team, I could see that they have woken up and are trying to recover their vitality. Still, I can see that they are now listening to our conversation. "Continue," I said to Ryan, trying my best to ignore my mom. Perhaps it might lessen the pain of betrayal I was feeling in my heart.

The world should end on a Monday. There’s something honest about that. Brutal, yes, but clean. A Monday already has the emotional texture of damp socks and unpaid bills, so adding zombies feels less like a cosmic betrayal and more like management escalating a complaint. Unfortunately, the world chooses Thursday at 6:17 p.m., while Maya Rodriguez is standing barefoot in her kitchen, trying to decide whether expired sour cream is a negotiable concept. “It smells fine,” Dex says from behind her.

Vivian died alone in her home, her body not discovered until it had already begun to rot. Only then did a question arise within me. After the deaths of my parents and Vivian, I never saw their souls. So why did I remain? The system finally appeared and answered my doubt. It said it had seen how painful my life had been, and how tragic my death was. So it used its power to keep my soul intact, allowing me to witness their downfall with my own eyes. Now that they were all gone… it was time for me to let go and be reborn.

Tried not to think about late nights, closed hotels, language barriers, or the fact that I was suddenly very aware of how far from home I was. Then my phone buzzed in my hand. The vibration was sharp and sudden, cutting through the quiet like a warning bell. Relief surged instinctively as I glanced down. Good, I thought. Information. Solutions. It evaporated instantly. We regret to inform you that due to unforeseen circumstances, your reservation has been cancelled. I stared at the screen. Then I read it again. And again. Like repetition might soften the words. Like maybe they would rearrange themselves into something less final.

Her fingers tightened around the glass in her hand as one word echoed in her mind— Undead. She repeated it inwardly. Again. And again. — Then— Her expression froze. A chill ran down her spine. — 'Undead… that's a person… not a group.' — The realization struck her like a blow. — The one she contacted— Was a single assassin. A local one. — Not an international mercenary. Not an elite force. — Her breathing grew uneven. — 'Then… what is this?' — Her thoughts spiraled. — Ten men. Armed.

Liam was half sitting, half sliding down the wall, his long legs stretched out, his head tilted at an uncomfortable angle. It was late—way past midnight, judging from how still everything felt. The air was cold and heavy, the kind that settled deep in your bones. There was a smell of antiseptic and something metallic, something that reminded me where I was and what I’d lost. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. My body felt strange—too light and too heavy all at once, like grief had changed my weight. Every inhale was effort, every exhale too shallow.