Novels by Ellena Smith

Lorenzo stopped. His boot caught on something that didn't feel like stone. It felt like leather, or maybe dried, hardened fabric."Ren? You’re stalling," Yara’s voice drifted back from the mouth of the alleyway, barely audible over the wind. "We don't have the luxury of sightseeing."Lorenzo didn't answer. He turned his flashlight—a dim, flickering thing—back toward the black aperture of the well. The water he had just drawn was clear, but the floor around the base was stained with dark, irregular splotches that hadn't been visible in the gloom.He leaned down, his heart hammering against his ribs. He pulled back a thick layer of sludge with his boot. Beneath it, a hand. Pale, shriveled, and unmistakably human."Damn it," he whispered, his voice shaking.He dragged his foot further, clearing away the muck. It wasn't just one. There was a heap of them, discarded like trash in the shadows of the pump room. They were victims of the 'parasites,' or perhaps, something much worse.He scramb

The walk to the outskirts of the Grand Mall was a grueling test of endurance. Every step felt like dragging lead weights through quicksand, and the air, thick with the smell of scorched earth and stagnant rot, did nothing to soothe Lorenzo’s frayed nerves. Yara moved ahead of him, a silent sentinel, her tactical gear barely making a sound against the jagged debris."Keep your head down," Yara muttered, not looking back. "We’re approaching a small cluster of survivors. Don't look like a mark."Lorenzo wiped his face, his hand coming away stained with grey soot. "A mark? I look like I’ve been chewed on and spat out by a monster. Who would want to rob me?""That’s exactly what makes you a mark," she retorted, her voice dry. "Desperate people don't care about quality. They care about what they can peel off your back. Keep your hands where they can see them."They emerged into a small clearing surrounded by the skeletal remains of what might have once been a residential garden. A group of

The silence of the ruins felt heavier than the concrete slabs they navigated. Lorenzo stumbled, his legs feeling like lead, the adrenaline of the battle finally draining away to leave a hollow, shivering void in his chest. Yara was a ghost ahead of him, her movements silent, her presence a constant, nagging reminder that he was out of his depth."You’re lagging, Ren. Keep it together," she said, not turning her head.Lorenzo wiped cold sweat from his forehead. "I’m fine. Just… the adrenaline is hitting a lag, that’s all."Yara stopped and turned, her eyes narrowed. She scanned his face, her gaze lingering on the spot where his arm had been shredded only minutes ago. "You don't look fine. You look like you’re drifting. If you collapse now, I’m leaving you for the scavengers.""Good to know," Lorenzo muttered, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "You’re always so comforting, you know that?""I’m honest. There’s a difference." She gestured toward a hollowed-out lobby of a mid-rise office

The first beast hit Lorenzo like a freight train of matted fur and rusted iron teeth. He grunted, his shoulder absorbing the impact, but he didn’t budge. He swung the shard of metal in a desperate, wide arc, catching the creature across its exposed, violet-pulsing throat. Black, ichor-like blood sprayed across his face, hot and metallic, but he didn't have time to wipe it away."Watch your six, Lorenzo!" Yara shouted. She was a whirlwind of motion beside him, her combat knife darting out with surgical precision. She ducked under a snapping maw, pivoted, and drove her blade into the eye socket of a second beast."I’ve got them!" Lorenzo roared, his voice thick with exertion. "Just keep the ones on the left off me!""You're doing alright, rookie," she panted, her cool facade finally cracking under the pressure of a dozen lunging horrors. "But don't get cocky. They’re just the scouts."A massive brute, double the size of the others, burst from the pile. It ignored Yara entirely, its sing

The shadow detached itself from the darkness, a hulking, four-legged nightmare of corded muscle and exposed bone that seemed to swallow the light. It wasn't just a beast; it was a predator, a kinetic mass of teeth and hate."Don't just stand there like a target, Lorenzo!" Yara’s voice hissed from the darkness behind him, sharp as a razor.Lorenzo didn't blink. His heart was a frantic drum, but the system’s warmth—that strange, artificial vitality—kept his hands from shaking. He gripped the scrap metal tight, his knuckles white. "I'm not standing there, I'm waiting.""Waiting? For what? A dinner invitation? Move!"He dodged to the left just as the beast lunged, its maw snapping shut on the empty air where his throat had been a second ago. The sound of its jaws hitting each other was like a bear trap closing. Lorenzo skidded on the grit, his boots finding purchase with unnatural ease."You're making a mistake, kid," Yara said, her voice sounding closer now, though she remained unseen. "

The echo of his sister’s name still vibrated in the marrow of his bones. Lorenzo stood frozen, the jagged piece of scrap metal held like a shiv, his chest rising and falling in rhythmic, measured gasps."Who's there?" Lorenzo called out, his voice cracking slightly. "I know you're watching. Show yourself!"Silence was his only reply. The wind sighed through the hollowed-out ribs of a high-rise, carrying the metallic tang of ozone and dust. Lorenzo wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, ignoring the way his new, enhanced strength made his grip on the metal rod feel almost too firm."Great. I’m hearing ghosts now," he muttered to himself, stepping out from the alleyway wall. "Either the system is messing with my head, or this city has decided to gaslight me into a grave."He began to move, keeping his steps light and his eyes scanning the periphery. He needed water. The euphoria of the level-up was already beginning to fade, leaving a nagging, dry itch in his throat that reminded