Novel & Cerita Weird Collector

I said softly, my voice thick with emotion. I gestured to the walls, to the photo on the desk. "David... you kept all of this? Even the small stuff?"He walked toward me, not bothered by his state of undress. He looked at the photo, then back at me. "I told you. You were the only reason I bothered coming into that office. Every time I had to make a hard decision, every time the Board or my Father pushed me to be someone I wasn't, I’d look at these. They reminded me that integrity actually exists.""Now you see the full extent of the obsession. Are you running for the hills yet?""No," I whispered, stepping into his space, the heat from his shower still radiating off him. "I'm just realizing th

“ Tsk, answer my question first.” “ I want to be alone when it’s my birthday. Even my siblings didn’t want to disturb me on my special day though I just considered it as a normal day.” “ At least…” he made a sigh. “ Fine. I didn’t remember. I’m sorry.” “ That’s fine and you don’t need to apologize, it was nothing.” I said with an innocent smile plastered on my lips. “ You’re weird.” He commented while starting to maneuver the car. “ And why is that?” I frown.

“Our collection is eternal. You should be honored, very few qualify for preservation.” The Progenitor manifests from wherever it exists between trials. “Release her,” it commands with authority that shook reality during the Wolf Trials. “She passed the trials, earned her return to life. You have no claim.” “We have the only claim that matters,” the Collector replies. “She broke cosmic law by restructuring it while mortal. That makes her ours by rights older than your trials.” “What rights?” the Progenitor demands. “The Right of Collection,” it states. “Established before reality itself by the things that watch realities form and collapse. We collect the anomalies, the beings who shouldn’t ex

The only device still on. We're about to leave when I notice something. A drawer in the desk. Slightly open. Inside is a box. Small. Wooden. I open it. Photos. Of me. As a child. Me at age seven. At a park. Smiling. Me at ten. School picture. Missing a tooth. Me at sixteen. Graduation. Proud. But these aren't normal family photos. They're clinical. Dated. Labeled. Subject E. Pre-treatment baseline.

"From what I can tell, she paid for the most expensive unit. Climate controlled, anti-pest, you name it. What would you need all that storage for?" "A comic book collection. I had a client years back who kept all his comics in a space like that. Kind of sad when he died, they quickly became money that his heirs fought over, not a single one of them gave a damn about the golden age of comics." Beth tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, ignoring the sound of Lily slurping fry sauce straight from the container. At what point did materialism become an unhealthy obsession? She remembered his face, but not his name, the comic collector. He hadn't visited his comics in over a decade, wanted to

--- ### The Shadow of the Moon As we walked toward the doors, leaving the warehouse behind, I looked up at the sky one last time. The violet moon was fading, returning to its dull grey color. But as the light died, I saw something moving across its surface. A massive, black shadow. It looked like a hand reaching out to grab the Earth. "What is that?" I asked, pointing upward. The Scavenger woman didn't look up. She kept walking into the snow. "That's the **Collector**," she said. "The machines realized the power spike came from here. They’re sending a 'Maintenance Crew' to fix the leak."

"Enforcement agents. Each one represents a dead universe's portfolio. They are functionally indestructible because they are composed of debt itself. You cannot kill debt. You can only pay it, restructure it, or default on it." "Can they be bought?" "They can be redirected. Each Collector is bound by its portfolio's terms. If you can demonstrate that a particular portfolio has already been serviced, that Collector must withdraw. The problem is proving it." Jack's mind was already racing. Seventeen Collectors. Seventeen dead-universe portfolios. Each one a separate line item in the Original Contract. If he could audit the payment history and find discrepancies... "Boss!" Ben's voice erupted th

Raven had a long glass telescope clutched in one hand. “It’s not a person!” Raven called out, dropping to the grass, gasping. “My machines are losing their minds. That thing in the sky—it’s a Collector. Something from a place above us. It doesn’t want to eat us. It wants to own us. Like we’re toys.” “What’s the difference?” Dante shouted. He planted his feet and shook his fist at the eye. “Get out of our sky! We’re not for sale!” The eye blinked once. The wind from that blink slammed everyone to the ground like a hurricane.

“Well the thing is, I’ve been at it for almost three weeks and other dealers are starting to get interested. Fuck! I couldn’t believe it was almost three weeks since we started looking for her. “That’s what we want right? We want them interested.” “Yes, but not these people. These people are dealers not collectors.” Max explained. “You need to run to the point, Max.” I told him. I was tired of the build up. “Well, collectors usually buy stuff. We want them interested. These dealers, they like to find things so they can sell. What I’m trying to say is, as of today about three of them are out looking for the wolf with the rare fur.” Max said.

However, he was also reluctant to reveal why he had come since there was a killer bargain at stake. In fact, every other collector who was coming was keen to be as secretive as they could be too. As such, the leader simply said vaguely, "We just have something to discuss." "Oh…" Trippy murmured as he eyed the doors of Treasure Measure, which was locked from the outside. Knowing that Raymond wouldn't be inside, he asked the trio, "Are you guys here to buy or sell? If you're selling, I must advise you to be careful since Mr. Cole's judgment is quite poor, and his items won't be that ideal."