Wreck-it Ralph Markowski Novels & Stories

Kael was a spoiled child playing at being a king, and now his tantrum had spilled across the border. Caius paused, his head tilting as he tasted the air. He filtered out the familiar scents of damp earth, pine needles, and sleeping blossoms, searching for something intrusive, something that didn't belong. He found it a moment later. A foul, intrusive stench that pierced his sensitive nose, cutting through the clean scent of the forest. It was the scent of outsiders, tainted with the specific brand of arrogant desperation that defined the Clearwater pack. Caius moved towards the source, his silence now taking on a deadly edge. On the trunk of an ancient cedar, a fresh, pungent scent mark stea

Uncle Maska had neglected the pack's legitimate transport and fruit plantation business and had turned to the flesh trade and possibly drug trafficking, though it would be more hidden. By evening, Alan's mind was racing. He ordered a chilled drink in order for him to cool down, and Paulo, a werewolf who had stuck with Alan since he arrived, came to deliver it. Paulo was an average-height werewolf with terrible dress sense that made him appear more dangerous than he was. After Alan finished his drink, he waved off his secretary and focused on Paulo.

If it wasn’t about to get Raven killed, the sheer bravado of it would have been cowboy poetry worthy. “Two minutes out,” Tony said, rounding a corner so quickly the tires squealed. I went over in my mind all that I knew about Marco Vitelli. Former Italian special forces. Expert in interrogation and demolitions. Utterly loyal to Xaviero (maybe since the latter had saved his life after Marco's family tried to kill him for fighting too much. Marco didn't just kill people. He made them suffer first. Made them beg. Made them break.

Why hasn't he destroyed the relic? "Because he doesn't know it is happening," a cold, mocking voice answered from the dark doorway of the breakroom. The metal lock on the back door suddenly shattered into pieces with a loud bang. The heavy metal door swung open violently, hitting the wall. Marcus Flint walked straight into the room, a cruel smile on his face. He wasn't alone. Three large, massive men stood right behind him in the shadows. They did not look like high school students at all. They had deep, jagged scars across their faces and eyes that glowed a sinister, dark red color. They were rogue wolves.

Marco inscribed code across the walls using a gold marker transforming the building into a dynamic firewall. Alexander and I… we deliberately shed blood. At the start of every hour a palm print was placed next to the one, on the wall. Each imprint symbolized a promise. Each imprint served as a reminder. We sacrificed for the dawns as Javier turned tostones singing out of tune. We stayed up late as Mamá told us bedtime tales despite us being past the age, for them. We suffered for Marco’s hack Rosa’s first tag, Lila’s initial shot that rescued Alexander’s life.

"Mayor Flynn has succeeded in gaining the sympathy of inhabitants of the Darkwood forest, including the werewolves who live there. That's why the werewolves sided with Mayor Flynn to escape from royal power." "Then what does this have to do with my dad?" "Rain, actually… Master Mark Orwell is a mighty warlock. He's the leader of the wizards in the kingdom. He was also one of the influential figures who contributed to the rebellion's success. However, your dad has a different mission from Mayor Flynn." Rain squinted. "Unfortunately, the mission your dad brought you was considered a betrayal. Because of that, after the rebellion, Master Markus left and hid from the other warlocks, including my

He looked up and saw two uniformed policemen standing over him, poking and prodding him with their batons, smiling at each other. Kyle tried to remember what happened, how he’d got here. He remembered reporting to Rexius. Then being grabbed, being tied down. Then, the acid. He reached up and felt one side of his face, and it felt normal. Then he reached up and felt the other—and the pain came flooding back. He could feel the contours, the horrible scars, the disfiguration. They had branded him with Ioric acid. A punishment reserved for traitors. He, Kyle, the man who had been loyal to his coven for thousands of years. For one small mistake. It was unthinkable. Kyle felt the pain welling up o

Then, I gave him the absolute laziest, most half hearted hug in human history. There. Hug accomplished. Now let me go. Instead, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist, pulling me flush against his warm body. I stiffened. This was so awkward I felt like throwing up. Several hours later, everything had been cleared and packed into the convoy. Our billionaire Alpha had literally ordered his private trauma team to pack their equipment and move to the estate, having already reserved living quarters for them. Must feel nice being an insanely wealthy, handsome blood money mafia lord. I sat in the plush leather seat right beside Chadwick during the long drive back. I peeked over at him. He looked

Upon placing it back down on the table, he look at me with those sorrowful eyes once again. With a gloomy smile and a hoarse voice, he said with a hint of gratitude, “Thank you. Thank you for taking effort to let me know.” “You deserve it.” After giving both of us some time to compose ourselves from the heartache we were in, I broke the silence, “So, how’s that going?...About you and Stella?” Ralph was a very talented engineer. However, its a pity that despite the preferential treatment he received from Jackson and the other lycans, he remained timid.

He had once been the most powerful Alpha alive, but he spent the rest of his life bound to a bond he had once rejected and later destroyed with his own hands. From the day that door closed, I never looked back. At the first snowfall of every year, I shift into a silver wolf and run all night across the snowfields of Moonwatch Ridge. She is my wolf, and no one can ever call her away from me again.