Walking Dead Graphic Novels & Stories

Devin sighed and gave me a pity look. “He’ll come around.” He assured me. “In the meantime, it’s a beautiful day and the sun is up. You wanna go for a walk?” he asked and shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal, only if he knew what he just did. He just invited a vampire for a walk, in the sun. Good thing I’m a day lighter. “Sure.” I said and stood up from the chair I was seated. “So, what do you wanna talk about?” He asked swinging his arms beside him while staring at my face making me a little more uncomfortable than I already am.

Later, a tall man with red eyes enters the room, a vampire. " Sir, the chopper and escort are ready, but we must use the backyard to get there," the man says and Mario nods. Mario unlocks the shackles and my wrists are red as they were holding too tied, he points a gun to my head as we walk out of the room. When we reach the backyard, a breeze hits me, it's not delightful, it smells of death and blood. I gasp when I see a man's body crashed by a huge metal, while next to him is a man whose throat was slushed out. We walk further, and everywhere I look, there are dead bodies. My heart shrinks when I see a dead wolf, he has bullets in his fur.

Then I move to Teddy and gesture at Ava: "Kill her too." Ava's eyes were wide, fear and shock written across her face. Her lips opened in a silent cry, but Gamma Teddy beat her to it. Before she could even get out a word, he killed her too, finishing her off quickly. Her eyes went glassy, her body collapsing next to James's dead body. The beta and gamma of the Night Walker Pack, seeing their alpha fall, turned deathly pale. Horror written across their faces, they retreated, tripping on James's and Ava's corpses behind them.

"Hardly! I've already contacted the Captain through our mental bond—he's sending men over as we speak." I grinned at the beta's efficiency. "You're truly an excellent beta; I hope your Alpha recognizes your worth," I complimented him. He beamed, clearly pleased by my words. Suddenly, my nose wrinkled, detecting the unmistakable stench of death. Where was it emanating from? The beta noticed too, his expression turning grim. "Day walkers," he whispered urgently. We tracked the foul odor to the old man's house, where we discovered a couple of Day Walking Vampires siphoning the lifeblood from the unfortunate elder.

“Boys! Speak up!” Reede raised his hand. “I did not see the body, but I heard a rumor from a pack in the south, Crescent Moon. Two werewolves have died, but they couldn’t explain it. Remember the black virus? Similar to it. The body turned gray and the eyes seemed hollow. But here’s a thing, I think they might not die in that mysterious death. There was a stab wound behind their heads. What’s going on, Alpha?” “Not sure yet, but here’s what we should do.” Before I could spread the enhanced image from the drone, there was a knock on the door.

I stopped walking. My entire body went still. Shock rooted me in place. The scene before us looked less like a fight. And more like a massacre. Bodies littered the ground. Seven. No. Eight. All vampires. All dead. The first lay crumpled against a container wall. A wooden stake protruded from his chest. Directly through the heart. The second had suffered the same fate. The third was missing its head entirely. I stared. Unable to process what I was seeing.

"It's a bit out of the way here, but the peace and quiet make up for it." Mr. Wulfric carried the sketchpad as we strolled along the riverbank. "Heather, look over there." He stood on a rock, pointing at the sunset in the distance. I looked over. Suddenly, everything changed. Several dark figures suddenly burst out of the reeds and lunged forward crazily. I saw their red eyes clearly, the kind belonging to a vampire gone mad with hunger. But they were moving too fast, giving me no time to evade at all.

Suddenly it goes completely silent. “Stop it!” Aviva hisses, her arm locked around Andrew’s thick neck. She hisses with fury as she forces his snout to his chest, pinning him down with her weight. I drop into the grass, watching with my heart hammering as the new rogues stop at the very edge of the forest. The golden sunlight draws over them, showing off their tangled, deformed bodies in a new way. They’re ugly and mottled. Walking dead. One of them turns to where Aviva and Andrew are lying in the grass, just out of sight.

Even if she had never dreamed of the walking dead, she couldn’t have failed to recognize them for what they were—thanks to the movies and television every teenager in America knew what zombies looked like. These three seemed fresher than the ones she had seen in her dreams, as if they had not been buried very long. Still, the skin of their faces and hands was a ghastly yellowish gray, and patches of it had already decayed away, exposing pockets of white bone of their skulls and hands. The sockets of their eyes seemed to have somehow expanded, revealing far more of their eyeballs than normal. The bulbous eyes were far from pleasant, but nowhere near as disgusting and frightening as the creatu

It was the slow pleasure that turned your limbs molten, the kind that gradually built without you realizing it. Even after I relaxed into the mattress, my thighs falling open as I slipped in and out of sleep, he stayed right there—his tongue slowly working me over. Tasting. Savoring. Worshipping. Ziva and I decided we liked that very much. ~ The weekend passed, and we finally managed to identify all of the people in the photo. They were a mixture of human and werewolf. Three were dead—one in a house fire, one in a hit-and-run, and one during a family camping trip gone tragically wrong. Bear attack, they said.