Walten Files Mortality Novels & Stories

It was then that I realized: of course George would never leave unprotected on his computer the information that he had faked a baby's death. So I spent a good deal of time rummaging through the huge file cabinets he had there, looking for something, anything, that could give me concrete proof of what they had done, beyond that empty tomb... And that's when I found it. It wasn't in a folder with Theodore's name or anything like that. It was just a big mix of several deaths that had happened in the same month. And among them, there was: Annie Weston Mycroft, with a ratification written in blue pen right below, asking that she not be included in the general system and just referred to as Westo

“To think you almost gave me a high blood pressure.” “That's exactly what I am saying? The files are all missing.” Braden insisted, forcing Camila to rock back on her heels. Aston narrowed his eyes. “Both paper files and backed up drives?” Braden nodded his head. “Inside Pete's office, there's no paper file about Mrs. Winston and… and when I looked up her name in the hospital's system at the front desk, the only record she had was a death certificate.” Camila looked on into the empty space without blinking as Braden's word sank into her. Evergreen hospital wasn't in any way a small hospital so that means someone was behind it.

"I had the ticket. 'Elion Marrow. 9:48 AM. Blunt force trauma.' I was ready. I had the paperwork filed." "Cancel it," Cale said. "You can't just cancel a death!" Vane shouted, though no one on the street seemed to hear him. To the passersby, they were just two guys arguing about money or sports. "Do you know how much paperwork this creates? The Entropy Audit is going to be a nightmare. Again." "Put it on my tab," Cale said. "Your tab?" Vane laughed. It was a terrible sound, like glass grinding in a disposal. "Your tab is maxed out, friend. Look at your arm."

Carl was a freaking monster. My throat burned. “How many survived?” Taylor tapped the screen, pulling up some red-highlighted reports. “Not many. Some disappeared into other institutions. Some… well, the files don’t even bother to hide it.” She clicked open a medical report stamped TERMINATED in bold letters. Ed swore under his breath, pacing the room like a caged animal. “He’s a butcher. A goddamn butcher dressed in fine suit.” But I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Because in the middle of that sea of names, one glowed like a warning flare.

Upon getting there, Alpha Cillian demanded to speak with the team in charge of autopsies. “The results are ready. Apologies that we couldn’t get them across to you. We’ve been handling so many dead bodies and it’s gotten to the point that we may soon run out of room,” the pathologist said. “Well, get on with it. What happened to them? Why are they just dying so carelessly?” “It’s wolfsbane, Alpha Cillian.” “Wolfsbane? Impossible. Our lands have been rid of those deadly plants for centuries.” “I am afraid it’s true. All the people who died had wolfsbane cells, either on their skins, or in their bodies. It’s what caused them to die so fatally.”

“People d‍on’t just‌ ap⁠pear at twen‌ty-‍five.” “E⁠xactl‍y.” Kieran pul​l⁠e‌d up a​noth⁠er d‌ocument​. “This is a​ death cer‍tificate. Wom⁠an named‌ Elena W‌int‍ers. Died fi‌ft⁠y⁠-t⁠hr⁠ee years ago.” My stoma​ch dro​pp‍ed. “Someone with the‌ same n‌ame. T​hat’s​—‌”

There were still most of the files locked. Greta stated that it would take her some time to crack the encryptions., vintage codes. Dead technology, languages that have been forgotten. One file but was still open. DOVE Project. I picked it. Photographs showed kids in sterile white rooms with shaved heads and blank eyes. Not a name. Just figures. Numbers in rows and rows. They had short files. Subject 07, after Trial 2 passed away. failing organs. Subject No. 12. fired for acting erratically.

She used to be sure it was no, but now… “I didn’t think there were at first but… I’ve personally never looked through the papers in his office. I’m not sure if Hazel has. But before me, Zasper Zavier did, I think. He used to joke about how losing Valor’s office to a fire would be more tragic than losing Valor himself because Valor wouldn’t be able to remember everything in those files passed down from one commander to the next. I used to think it was only for good humor. But Valor never really laughed. He smiled to be amiable because Ferdinand and the others from the ministry found it funny. Maybe Valor just didn’t want to cause a scene.” Greg considered their options and urged, “Sush, we ne

I knelt down and began sorting through the papers with shaking hands. The first file I picked up made my blood freeze. It was labeled "CASE #47 - RESOLVED" and contained photos of a woman I didn't recognize. Inside were medical records, psychiatric evaluations, and a death certificate. The woman had supposedly committed suicide three months after being committed to a private facility. I grabbed another file. "CASE #63 - RESOLVED." Another woman, another suicide, another family destroyed. File after file, dozens of them, all marked the same way. All women who had become inconvenient to someone powerful. All dead.

Formal notification to all pack records systems within thirty days. Thomas Harper-Wren's record would be correct now. The correct cause of death. The correct classification. The correct history of a man who had been trying to build something and had been stopped, available in the permanent record for anyone who looked. Riley walked out ahead of me. I gave her the lead and followed into the corridor. She stopped at the window at the far end, looking at the January light. I waited. "The record is correct," she said finally. "Yes." "He has his name in the right places. The reclassification. The framework. The criminal referral that's going to follow." She paused. "The file that was supposed to