Weird Collector Novels & Stories

She doesn't really have anyone who likes the stuff that she has. "It's just that this stuff is so cool! Almost half the stuff in here is rare, old and new! Everything is so organized, neat, and so-" "Dangerous," Tera finishes. "It is so bizarre to have a human collect and keep this stuff." Tera grabs one of the herbs in a glass container. "You even got the rarest herbs no one could ever find." Sarah could really feel her ego being stroked as she heard them praise her. The wolves were either sitting or looking around. The witches and Snow were the only ones who know what was in the shop while the others didn't.

Septimus, still deep in thought, goes on to communicate that: {If one was stone-drunk or bleeding through his shirt or broken-hearted…} “What do you do?” {What?} the head reaper hisses, yanked out of his reverie. “Your job. I can usually tell at a glance but with you, I come up with a blank.” {I’m a collector.} “Of what? You a bill-collector, a ticket-collector or a garbage-collector?” {Of debts.} “Well, you’ll have to be more specific than that. I mean…” Because no car stays in its lane in this part of the world, a massive truck bears down alarmingly close from our left.

The thing that really caught my attention was the jaded exterior, like it had been exposed to elements of nature. “How much are they selling it for?” There was a silence before Leng spoke, “Three thousand.” “Three thousand?” I exclaimed. “That’s daylight robbery.” “Willing buyer and seller, Dr. Ant. Collectors are irrational creatures. It is what the heart delights. Collectors' hearts are deep like oceans.” "How philosophical." "Courtesy of my dad. He said it." "Smart dad." "Like father, like daughter." I returned to the image Twenty-Seven and read it out before continuing again.

"I'm not telling you anything." "Wrong answer." Elara pressed her thumb into one of his wounds and he screamed. "Try again. Who's paying you?" I should have been disturbed by her casual brutality. Instead, I was grudgingly impressed. She'd learned to do what was necessary, no hesitation. "I don't know his name!" The rogue gasped. "We just call him the Collector. He pays good money for destabilizing packs. Especially ones with connections to True Alphas." "The Collector." Elara's eyes met mine. "What does he want with True Alphas?"

That wasn't my assumption, but hearing him say it felt like a gong was struck in my head. "Secondly, the Collectors operate differently from other organisations. We don't do interrogations and arrests like the police." He stated coldly. "No. The collectors, we hunt, we find, we steal, and we kill. It's not a dog-eat-dog world; it's a predators-eat-prey world. See, we don't just kill our enemies, Mr Richards. We feast on their flesh and bathe in their blood. Our level of brutality is second only to nature's cruel conditioning. So tell me, Mr Richards. Would you be willing to bathe in blood for the rest of your life just stand by his side?" He leaned against the tree.

Manik said and both kabir and manik smile and decline the call. After somedays he just come to know about kabir's death and without thinking anything he just came india back after almost 10 years. He left his business in america and takeover his father's empire which was very big and powerful with his ideas and skills he take his father's business to new heights and then send a marriage proposal for nandini.

"He referred them to someone else. A collector who specialises in lunar artifacts." "Who?" Casie pressed, leaning forward. "Victor Krane. Private collection in Westbrook Heights." Valeria withdrew the instrument, its silver surface now stained with a hint of red. "The Magpie left immediately after extracting this information." Rick was already checking the name on his phone. "Victor Krane, 62, retired investment banker with a reputation for eccentric collecting habits. No criminal record, but several complaints from auction houses about aggressive bidding tactics." "We need to get to him before the Magpie does," Casie decided, already moving toward the stairs.

I whined, picking up a sweatshirt with fragility. "Well... because you didn't listen to the warnings and so you brought this upon yourself. Good luck and try to stay alive." Alpha Gray laughed, closing the door to my escape and the door of the big laundry room. Werewolves sweat and blood smell awful than humans because of the supernatural power they hold. But I will surely be dying over this foul smell. "Oh! Look. It's Clara the troublemaker." The beta entered the room, pushing a big trolley filled with another pile of dirty clothes.

The iridescent Eye of the Collector in the sky let out a shriek of rage, its gold light turning into a series of "Warning Pixels." UNAUTHORIZED BROKER DETECTED. SECTOR 4 IS UNDER EXCLUSIVE USER CONTRACT. REMOVE THE MERCHANDOR. The Merchant didn't look up. He adjusted his silver-glass briefcase, which was etched with the logos of a thousand dead sectors. "The Collector is such a sentimentalist," the Merchant said, his voice a smooth, clinical vibration. "He thinks 'Skins' and 'Mods' are the future. He doesn't realize that the real value of a 'Genesis Variable' is the 'Raw Entropy'."

“Where is it? Where are the pieces? What about the items inside it?” His voice vibrated through the room, making even his parents flinch. The transplant vessel wasn’t just a bottle. It was filled with colorful carbon stars. It was very valuable to Adrian. Elowen had gifted it to him four years ago, and he had cherished it ever since. He believed it gave him strength whenever he looked at it. And hearing it was broken, Adrian's heart felt torn apart. “It’s in the wastebasket outside,” Scarlett said tearfully. Her body trembled hard. She didn't imagine that Adrian would react this way because of the vessel. Scarlett knew the vessel was from Elowen. She had broken it out of jealousy.