Zombie Patrick Hockstetter Novels & Stories

I casually tossed the grenade up and down in my hand like a ball before hurling it toward the car where Scarface was hiding. By the time Scarface managed to shove away the zombies around him, his entire body had already erupted into flames. He staggered around screaming in agony, desperately trying to find water to put himself out. But there was nothing here that could save him. I watched expressionlessly as he burned into a charred corpse before collapsing onto the ground. I wondered how many survival points the system would reward me after destroying this many zombies at once. Thinking about that, I turned and walked back toward the estate.

Christopher knocks three times on a door and enters when Zombie calls for him. “Good, remove her chains and leave us alone,” Zombie says, looking up from his desk. My eyes scan the room and find just about the last person I expect to see here: Tjeck. He slumps against the wall under the window, looking hardly conscious as he tries to stop the bleeding from his jaw.

Tom said calmly, "Unfortunately, Patrick is sick and can't come today." Hearing this, the crowd began to discuss the situation again. "He's sick? Is it so coincidental that he fell ill on his birthday?" "Exactly! Is he really sick or is he just pretending?" Someone impatiently said, "He's had a condition all along. There's no need for him to pretend. Mr. Strauss Senior, we heard that Patrick is mute and also has autism. Please tell the truth in front of everyone. Are those rumors true?"

“Patrick Carter was killed in a tragic work accident.” “It wasn’t an accident,” Talen shook his head. “It was murder.” “Because of this?” Heath looked at the folder frowning. The vampire was right, of course, he realized. The contents of the folder were sufficient motivation for the pack to kill Patrick Carter, but that would require the pack knowing that the humans were collecting the evidence that rested under Heath’s palm, and surely, he would have heard if it were so – Charlie would not have been able to resist the urge to rub it in his face that the pack was having to clean up behind Heath and the Triquetra.

Between awkward dormmates, impossible class schedules, and professors who seemed to delight in assigning triple essays the day before a holiday, she was already exhausted. And then there was him. Rhett Blackwood. The name alone made her stomach twist in irritation—and something else she refused to identify. He was the captain of the university hockey team, the kind of guy who made the entire campus swoon without even trying. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair that seemed to have its own natural gravity, and eyes that could slice through steel. People said he was charming, but Alina suspected charming was just a polite word for terrifying. Her first encounter with him had been... disastrous, t

"The explosion was catastrophic. No one could've survived. Whoever you saw was playing for a fool, perhaps an impostor—" "I want to believe that," Zack interrupted him, jamming the locker, the impact echoing through the room. "I really want to believe that and no matter how I tried to be in denial; I couldn't." He said, his voice dropping to a whisper. He then looked away, his expression turning thoughtful. "I wanted to believe he was an imposter, but his behavior, his voice, had to be him. Initially, I had been fooling myself since this morning—"

Muttering obscenities under his breath, he crawled beneath them all to get to the unit. <><><><><><><><><><><><><> Rebecca scraped the remains of her eggs into the dog's dish when Patrick descended from the attic hatch. "Ugh. You look horrible." She observed. Patrick stood there with his shirt and shorts saturated and dripping in sweat. His hair was matted down and dust covered his arms and legs. "Yeah, I feel that way too," He responded. "The trouble seems to be only your unit since the other ones sound like they are running. I don't know much about air handlers but there is a burnt wire inside it so I'm assuming that caused a short," He explained.

Victoria asked him and held his hand like a younger brother. “I can smell my dad scent. I think he is here, we have to leave this place right now” Patrick says out of breathe and held my hands tightly. Patrick was snot technically from the Crescent pack but he was found in the borders of the pack half dead and was left there by his father who he still traumatize about till now. “He is not here so don’t be scared” Victoria assured him and they walk to the direction where Denver, Claude and Eric stood. “Babe you better don’t die on me in this forest” Eric jokes wrapping his arm around Victoria and Patrick tenses up which made him remove his hand quickly.