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A call from the dead

A year after the tragic disappearance of his wife, Emily, Daniel Carter is still haunted by unanswered questions. The official reports say she’s dead, but no body was ever found. The grief is suffocating, but Daniel has forced himself to move on—until one night, his phone rings. The caller ID reads a name that shouldn't exist anymore. Emily. At first, he thinks it’s a cruel joke. But then he hears her voice, whispering a chilling message: "Daniel… stop digging." From that moment, his world spirals into madness. The next day, he finds a coin—just like the one Emily used to carry—engraved with the same warning. The deeper he looks, the stranger things become. The phone company confirms Emily's number was disconnected a year ago. There are no call records. No one believes him. As Daniel follows the cryptic clues, he starts uncovering things about Emily’s past that he never knew—secrets she buried deep, connections to people who seem just as eager for him to stop his search. And every time he gets too close, another warning appears… or worse, another call from his dead wife. But if Emily is truly gone, then who’s calling him? And if she’s still alive… then why is she so desperate for him to stop? With time running out and danger closing in, Daniel must decide—does he risk everything to uncover the truth, or does he heed Emily’s warning and turn back before it’s too late? Because some secrets aren’t meant to be unearthed. And sometimes, the dead don’t rest because they were never dead to begin with.
Isa_joyce · 1.5K Views

Setting souls

The two men couldn't have looked more out of place on the cold afternoon streets of New Hadepee. The first was a scrawny fellow, no taller than five foot eight, wearing a white shirt marred with ugly reddish-brown stains and a pair of plain tan pants. His companion, by contrast, carried himself with an air of quiet authority—a regal-looking man with a neatly trimmed black beard, wrapped in a great black coat with a red scarf pulled snug around his neck. "I heard the man himself has come back," the one in the stained shirt said, carefully balancing on the curb with his arms outstretched. "Oh? And where did you hear that?" his companion asked, turning his head with amusement to watch the precarious balancing act. "Welp, the sergeant major told me to go down to Olker, so I figured that could only mean he's back," the man in the white shirt replied. "Vistor has close cultural and political ties with the kingdom of Olker. Don't you think it's just a protection job?" the older man in black inquired, a hint of humor in his voice. "Oh, come on, Mang, you know they'd never give someone like me a protection job," the man in the white shirt scoffed, jumping off the curb and spinning around a lamppost. The older man—now known as Mang—came to a halt, reaching into his coat and pulling out an envelope. "Well, Tai, I suppose you're wrong." Mang handed the envelope to him. Tai peeled open the envelope, sliding out the letter and studying it carefully. "Oh wow, so Marlin is marrying the queen of those people?" he asked with a shrug. "She is not a queen. Don't let anyone call her that," Mang snapped. "And if her people weren't so damn difficult, we would have annexed them already." "So we let them succeed but not Gascon? Whose idea was that? They're more like us than those humans are," Tai said, frowning. "Gascon was willing to sell to the Emperor for a small chunk of change," Mang quipped. "The Noctrous family was not." "Ok so what's that matter, all we need is a little persuasion to change their minds? We killed the chief of Gnomandale and sent his stuffed head back to them, then they sold Gnomendale to us. All we need to do to get Olker is beat the hell out of Sylvie and she will sell." Tai folds the letter and places it back into the envelope. "Tai, the people of Vistor don't have the heart to see us beat up the Eladrin people like we did the Gnomes, and plus their Chief tramp Silvye is much too pretty for us to put her head on a stick."  "Welp, it's our loss," Tai muttered, spitting onto the sidewalk. "No, it's not. Not if Chester is back…" Tai frowned. "What's Chester gonna do?" "Last I recall, his fallout with Sylvie wasn't just a petty disagreement. Before he died, he built a fleet of ships and hid them in a cove somewhere. If he wanted revenge, all he'd need is an army." "And who the hell would fight for him?" "The same people who fight for us—the poor." This is a prequel to Then Maker, another story of mine. The writing may feel somewhat outdated compared to my more recent work, but it consists of a series of scenes that occur before the main events of the novel. The description is one of my most recent pieces, which is why it differs in style from the rest of the book.
Thornton_Chase · 1.6K Views
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