Walten Files Mortality Novels & Stories

. That is why I hurriedly went to my father’s room and checked for the possible box that I used to hide the black notebook. I rushed to the room while my mother and Nana Salve were wondering about me. When I reached inside the room, I locked the door just to find the box. Until I suddenly remembered about the Vault that my father has inside his cabinet. I opened the cabinet and I found the vault and I immediately opened it because I know how to unlock it and I was amazed when I saw the notebook there. My heart starts to beat fast again in excitement. I feel like I was finally myself when I saw the notebook. I saw the cutter too. I grabbed it with a notebook and stared at it. The bloodstain

“You put her on that table with your own hands. Elara is dead. She is truly dead. Are you satisfied now?” She threw a stack of papers into his chest. They scattered across the floor. At the top lay the diagnosis he had crushed beneath his boot. Final Stage Wolf Collapse Estimated survival time: less than forty-eight hours

I don't want to drag you down, so I can only prove my innocence with my death. "This wolf fang is for you, as a keepsake. "Rachel, I hope you'll find happiness in the future." Before he could finish, he stopped breathing. His eyes remained open even in death. I didn't even have time to mourn. The guards dragged his body away. In the wasteland, werewolves died every day. They were used to it. No matter how desperately I tried to stop them, I couldn't keep Frank's body.

"Every secret The Covenant ever collected. Terabytes of blackmail. Fifty years of leverage. Everything I used to keep people silent and compliant." "Can you destroy it all?" Rodriguez asked. "Every file. Every backup. Every redundant system. The kill code wipes everything simultaneously. Irretrievably. No recovery possible." "Then do it." "I'm giving you the kill codes. Once entered, the process takes approximately four minutes. Complete deletion. The deadman's switch deactivates permanently. Four thousand dossiers. Gone forever." Rodriguez's voice tightened. "Are there files we should preserve? Evidence we could use in prosecution?"

A hidden directory titled 'Project 99% Mother. Kael’s digital pulse stuttered. The file was a stratigraphic map of every woman the Council had ever used as an anchor. It wasn't a list of heroes. It was a ledger of casualties. He swiped through the names, and the horror of it rippled through the city’s grid, causing the Grand Hall’s lights to strobe a sickly, necrotic violet. Unit 1: Brain death at forty percent petrification. Unit 3: Systemic marrow collapse. Unit 8: Neural extraction failed.

"And you're certain they're killing werewolves?" "I've got more than three thousand confirmed deaths in the last twenty-five years. All werewolves. All killed the same way. All in their hunting ground." Marcus pulls out a phone and slides it across the table. "The records are all here. Names, dates, autopsy reports where they have them. They're systematic about it. It's clinical." I scroll through the information, my stomach twisting in knots over what I read. He's right. The trend is clear, unmistakable. These hybrids are hunting and killing werewolves at a disturbing rate.

Kyle's POV Three weeks in Paris, and I was no closer to exonerating my father than when I'd arrived. If anything, I'd only uncovered more sins. The file on my desk contained photographs, financial records, Morton's call interrupted my thoughts. "Morton," I answered, my voice rough from lack of sleep. "Kyle," he replied. "There's been a development. Richard Williams is dead." I moved away from the window, alert. "How?" "Officially? Suicide. He was found hanging in his cell early this morning."

The prison where Linda had died was cooperative, too cooperative. The warden met them at the gate with a forced smile and a stack of paperwork, his hands trembling slightly as he handed over the files. Records showed she had been cremated within twenty-four hours of her death, no autopsy performed, no investigation opened. “Standard procedure for natural causes,” the warden had said, avoiding their eyes. Cedric had stared at the documents until the words blurred, his hands clenched so tightly the paper crumpled.

That was what he told her; she thought he was sleeping with an old woman but the truth was worse than a taboo. "Mom…mom…Are you there?" Frank asked. Ireen quickly wiped her tears, "Yes… I am here. You said….you have been sleeping with Marcus's wife?" "Yes… he used to drug her so that..." Frank tried to explain but could not get the words out of his mouth. His throat was feeling a little numb. Irreen covered her hand on her mouth, as tears began rolling down her cheeks. "I…am…dying, mom… I am dying," he whispered.

I followed his gaze. The document described an approved transfer request submitted approximately six months after my mother's funeral. According to the report, Evelyn Calloway voluntarily requested relocation under enhanced protection protocols. The language was clinical and precise, yet the implications hit like a freight train. A dead woman couldn't request relocation. A dead woman couldn't sign legal paperwork. A dead woman couldn't continue generating records for years afterward. The room grew quieter as everyone absorbed the significance of what we were reading. Even the analysts stopped sorting evidence long enough to exchange uneasy looks. Nobody wanted to be the first person to say w