Young Terry Silver Novels & Stories

“It's fine, Ma. The deed has already been done; what's next is to find a way forward." Tatiana nodded, sniffing as she sat down. "Are you going to talk to him?” She asked. Silver shrugged, biting her lips. “You heard him. He didn't believe you. I'm just going to grab some things and head to the hotel for a couple of days till things simmer down.” She said, already picking a bag and stuffing clothes inside. "I think he's just in denial. He knew even before I said anything, I saw it in his eyes, Silver. He saw the similarities between him and the boy, and I guess he pieced it together.” Tatiana insisted, walking to Silver and removing the bag from her grip.

he says, turning again and picking up speed. “Mark is having someone follow us?! What the hell is wrong with him!” I shout as I see the car. It’s a silver accord and I know Terry can lose him but what the fuck! Why is he having him tail us? What’s his plan once this guy catches up to us? Terry shakes his head, and we get to the highway. He speeds up merging and then dodges in and out of traffic, speeding faster until the accord can no longer be seen. I sigh, wiping my eyes and Terry looks at me, “Do you work tonight?” he asks.

Nyssa happily jogged to her room and changed into a short skirt. Ten minutes later, she walked out of the tower, where Adrian had been waiting in his car. Adrian punched the accelerator after Nyssa got in. Inside, he said, “Terry’s not even seventeen this year, is he?” Nyssa hummed in acknowledgment. “He’s just celebrated his sixteenth birthday, so he isn’t seventeen yet. Where is he, sir?”

“Hold on, Matt called out. “I am really not in the mood for whatever you have to say.” “Why didn’t you mention this the entire time?” “And say what? That I have not shifted before? Why would I announce my weakness to everyone, especially Arthur?” His voice dropped. “How old are you? “Twenty,” silver responded, wishing the conversation would end. “Twenty and no wolf, that’s not just late, it’s unheard of.” Silver responded irritably, “I am aware of that. I have tried everything, but nothing has worked yet. Please, Arthur, cannot find out about this.”

Terry looked down at Jessica, who was smiling in his arms, and his eyes curved slightly. "What else do you want to hear?" Jessica stopped laughing for a moment, looked at him, and raised an eyebrow, "So, when was the last time you got hit?" Terry touched her long hair and said, "Four years ago." Jessica paused for a moment and asked, "Why?" Four years ago, Terry was already twenty-five, not a little boy anymore. Can Brice still handle him?

(Terry) "...Magic…" There's an unavoidable awkward pause and stare between us. ".......….oh okay....anyway, looks like The Krawoski and Lee's already here..I'm gonna wave them in..you might wanna cover that up with a tarp or something..". (Terry) It's not that i'm lying, it's really done with magic. But of course unlike with Ken, I can never explain stuff like this logically to a non believer like Terry. After side glancing me Terry head outside as I cover the golds with old tarp that were also left inside the warehouse, there's a few rips on the tarp which gave out some of the golds inside.

Terry was the first to get caught by the bullet. He hit the floor all of a sudden and a cry of agony was let out. We all stopped abruptly in shock. Nothing could hurt us werewolves except silver. I make my way swiftly to Terry who's now groaning in pain. My heart suddenly then dropped into my stomach when I realized the human's bullet is made from silver. They know us. They know our weaknesses. How come? I tried to help terry to his feet. We can escape together. I know we will get help once we get back to the ice pack but then, as I was struggling with Terry, thousands of bullets rang out at once.

At least until the yelling stopped. Wyatt tried to follow in his brother's limelight, but he was just never able to shine the way Jack did in Ted's eyes. At nearly every event during their school's annual all-class Olympics, Jack would end up standing on the highest podium with a gold medal around his neck and there was little brother standing alongside of him wearing the silver. His good friend Stuart thought he could cheer him up by giving him the nickname of Mr. Silver, like a silver fox, but it only made things worse when the rest of the class started calling him Silver Boy.

Since Red Diamonds was our favorite club to hang out at, both me and Allie were quite familiar with Terry who just so happened to have his shift almost every time we come here. Terry, although his real name was something else but apparently he didn't like it since he thought it wasn't as cool as his personality (his words, not mine), was in his early 20s, studying photography and in his sophomore year. He had blonde hair with green eyes and a friendly air around him that made you want to talk to him. However, there were some instances when he tried to get a little too friendly with his cool suggestive innuendos that made me want to whack him upside his head. But apart from that, Terry was a

it all starts to make sense now and I nod severally. I listen to Silver’s words, her attempt to provide some solace amidst the turmoil. While a part of me acknowledges the validity of her perspective, it does little to assuage the pain and anger that surges through me. “But Tyler… he was killed so unjustly, Silver,” I argue, my voice laced with frustration and sadness.