News Dungeons & Dragons Dungeon Masters, An Official Dungeons & Dragons Play-Show, Is Coming to YouTube Next Week The show’s cast includes D&D legends and Baldur’s Gate 3 voice actors By Molly Templeton | Published on April 16, 2026 Photo: Wizards of the Coast Comment 0 Share New Share Photo: Wizards of the Coast Critical Role: huge. Dimension 20: huge. Having clearly caught on to the fact that series in which people play role-playing games are massively popular, Wizards of the Coast is launching its own, entirely official actual-play show. Variety reports that Dungeon Masters launches next week on YouTube, with a cast of game vets and voice actors: Jasmine Bhullar (DesiQuest, Dimension 20) is the series’ Dungeon Master, and is joined by players Mayanna Berrin (Dispatch, StoryQuest), Christian Navarro (Forgotten Realms: Tears of Selune), Neil Newbon (Baldur’s Gate III) and Devora Wilde (Baldur’s Gate III). According to Wizards of the Coast, “The first campaign arc unfolds within the world of Ravenloft, plunging viewers into a dark and atmospheric setting filled with mystery, suspense, and gothic horror.” Mayanna Berrin is playing a grave domain cleric, while Devora Wilde is playing “a hexblood shadow sorcerer elf with things that she’s hiding from everybody.” The other stars’ characters have not been revealed.  Dungeon Master Bhullar told Variety, “I know my goal coming into this, and to a certain extent, Wizards’ goal coming into this, is to expand this hobby that we all love.” She continued “So if somebody who’s never watched an actual play watches ours and goes and says, I want to run my own game of D&D, then I think we’ve done our jobs well.” Variety notes that Dungeon Masters will have “a state-of-the-art set (including a dice cam)” and a score by David Arkenstone. Episodes drop weekly starting April 22 on YouTube. [end-mark] The post <i>Dungeon Masters</i>, An Official Dungeons & Dragons Play-Show, Is Coming to YouTube Next Week appeared first on Reactor.

Lists zombies Five Horror Stories That Humanize Zombies If zombies aren’t simply mindless killing machines, what are they? By Lorna Wallace | Published on April 16, 2026 Credit: Laurel Entertainment / Viacom Comment 0 Share New Share Credit: Laurel Entertainment / Viacom In the majority of zombie stories, the zombies themselves tend to be depicted as mindless monsters. As soon as someone is turned by a bite or rises from the dead, they basically cease to be human. Part of the horror of zombie stories often comes from this very dynamic; the zombie might look like a loved one, but mentally they’ve been stripped of personality, memory, morality—everything that makes them them. But there are some books, movies, and TV shows that chart a different path by seeking to humanize the zombies. Here are five such stories which explore the idea of zombies not being totally brainless. Day of the Dead (1985) Set seven years after the zombie apocalypse kicked off, Day of the Dead is the third installment in George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead series (though it can be watched as a standalone). America has been overrun with shambling corpses, but a small number of scientists and soldiers have managed to survive by sheltering in a vast underground bunker in Florida. Two of the scientists have very different ideas about how to tackle the zombie plague. Dr. Sarah Bowman (Lori Cardille) is trying to develop a cure, but Dr. Matthew Logan (Richard Liberty) is instead attempting to domesticate the undead. Nicknamed “Frankenstein” in light of his macabre experiments, he has had some success, particularly with a relatively intelligent zombie called Bub (Sherman Howard). But Bub’s development is all in the service of what the living can gain, rather than an attempt to help him and his fellow undead. Although he eats human flesh, his brutal treatment at the hands of Frankenstein and endearing mannerisms make it hard not to sympathize with him. By the end of the movie, Bub’s basically the hero of the story. Warm Bodies by Isaac Marion (2010) Warm Bodies is told from the POV of a zombie known only as R (he can’t remember his full name), who is slightly fresher than his decaying friends and can even garble out a few basic words (beyond “braaaaiiiins” of course!). Unlike his fellow Dead—who mostly seem content to mindlessly mooch around until the sight and/or smell of the Living triggers their impulse to feed—R seems to have hung on to a little bit of his humanity. That spark within him then catches fire when he meets—and uncharacteristically saves, rather than eats—a young woman called Julie. R and Julie’s slow-growing connection easily could have come across as sappy, but Isaac Marion manages to avoid that by leaning into wry humor and philosophical musings along with the more heartfelt moments. The Girl With All the Gifts by M.R. Carey (2014) Melanie is a 10-year-old girl with a high IQ and a hunger for knowledge. But she’s a zombie, so she’s also got a hunger for human flesh (which has led to the infected being called “hungries”). Melanie was born a decade after the cordyceps fungus had jumped ship from ants over to humans. Some children, Melanie included, seem to be halfway between human and hungry—as long as they don’t smell humans, they remain in full mental control. What remains of the UK government is dedicated to studying these children in the hope of creating a cure. But when the base where Melanie is being schooled and studied is attacked, she’s forced to hit the road with a group of very nervous adults. There are plenty of thrilling action scenes in this book, but the emotional linchpin around which it all turns is Melanie herself. Sure, she might be dangerous, but she’s also a bright kid who just wants to be loved. Happiness (2021) Korean TV show Happiness has a fairly typical K-drama setup, but it’s not long before things take a turn for the horrifying. Sae-bom (Han Hyo-joo) has been approved for an apartment in a swanky high-rise, but it’s on the condition that she has a spouse, so she asks her old high school friend, Yi-hyun (Park Hyung-sik)—who, of course, is secretly in love with her—to be her fake husband. While the pair are still settling into their new digs, a zombie infection breaks out in the building and they’re forced into lockdown. In most zombie stories, a bite is an immediate death warrant. But in Happiness, those who are infected aren’t instantly zombified; instead, there’s a period where they phase back and forth between normal and ravenously violent. This version of the virus leads to a tricky social dynamic, with the residents of the building arguing over how best to deal with the infected. And in the midst of all this chaos, there’s still time for a little bit of romantic yearning. 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple (2026) The Bone Temple is a direct sequel to 28 Years Later (2025) and I wouldn’t suggest watching it without having seen the first one. Both films are set 28 years after the Rage virus swept through the UK. A strict quarantine has been enforced, with the few survivors being left to fend for themselves. Getting into the details of how the second film humanizes the infected lies in the spoiler section though… [Spoiler warning for The Bone Temple.] Most people kill the zombies any chance they get, but Dr Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) opts to sedate them instead. This more humane approach leads to him building a rapport with a particularly intimidating Alpha, who Kelson names Samson (Chi Lewis-Parry). While both of them are in a morphine-induced blissed out state one night, Samson shockingly utters a single word—proving that Kelson hasn’t been foolish in treating the infected as people. It also gives the doctor the motivation to try to concoct a cure, which leads to (in my opinion) the most impactful scene in the movie: Samson experiencing a moment of unprecedented clarity on a wrecked train. Whether we’ll ever get to see more of Samson is up in the air at this point (a third film was planned but its future is now uncertain), but at least Kelson proved that finding the humanity in zombies can be a worthwhile—and extremely watchable—endeavor. Have I missed your favorite story that humanizes zombies? The comments are open for all suggestions of books, movies, and TV shows that veer away from the black and white binary of human vs zombie and instead explore the shades of grey in-between.[end-mark] The post Five Horror Stories That Humanize Zombies appeared first on Reactor.

Books Mark as Read The Book News Isn’t All Bad Some bookish headlines can be dire — but it’s important to note the good stuff, too.  By Molly Templeton | Published on April 16, 2026 “A Lady Reading a Newspaper” by Carl Larsson (1886) Comment 0 Share New Share “A Lady Reading a Newspaper” by Carl Larsson (1886) Did you hear? No one reads books anymore. Well, not unless they’re reading performatively. All books are going to be written by AI soon, so why fight it? Who even reads, what with our broken attention spans and endless scrolls? Bookstores died a long time ago! Publishing is over! That’s what it feels like, sometimes, reading headlines about books. Dire. It feels dire. And these bookish news breaks are small potatoes compared to the multiple existential crises going on, today, on so many fronts that I cannot possibly list them.  But it isn’t all bad, over here in book-land. It isn’t! Book sales are up. People are reading. Book banning bills are failing (sometimes). Writers are pushing back on the narrative of the inevitability of AI. I went looking for good book news, and I found so much I had to stop looking, lest the task consume my entire week.  So I wrote it up for you. And yet I feel compelled to offer a caveat: None of this is to say that there aren’t terrible things happening everywhere, including in this bookish corner of the world. AI is a mess on too many fronts to count. Publishers keep consolidating, laying off staff while demanding more of those who still have jobs. Book bans are a very real threat.  Still. It’s important to note the good stuff, too.  People Are Actually Reading Books Every time I see a headline about whether or not people read, it’s doomy. No one reads! No one reads enough, or the right things! But people are actually reading. According to a Pew Research Center study from earlier this month, “Overall, 75% of U.S. adults say they have read all or part of at least one book in the past 12 months.” There are some other neat stats in there—most people read print, though the balance is shifting; few people are participating in book clubs—but the fact remains: people are reading. Yes, 25 percent of Americans said they read no books in the last year. But 14 percent said they read 20 books or more. Do I wish that number were higher? Sure! But it’s not nothing.  Book Sales Back Up the Fact that People Are Reading Books This one is good and also frustrating: According to Publishers Weekly, “For the second consecutive year, unit sales of print books were up at outlets that report to Circana BookScan, hitting 762.4 million in 2025 for the year ended Dec. 27, 2025. That marks a 0.3% increase over 2024, which in turn saw sales grow 0.5% over 2023.” Those aren’t huge increases, but they are increases. And yet we keep seeing publishing contract. One possible reason for this (PW again): “Since sales peaked in 2021 at 839.7 million copies, they have settled at levels higher than before the pandemic, though not as high as many publishers had hoped.” I say this with intense, fervent hope: It’s never going to be the pandemic year again. And publishers have got to be a little more practical than to expect sales like that year after year. Interestingly, fantasy sales fell, but romance sales rose. If only BookScan had a romantasy category! Book Workers Are Forming Unions At this point, the only big five publisher with a union is HarperCollins. As that union’s website says, “Collective bargaining gives us a democratic voice in improving our lives and helps us protect our jobs.”  But other book workers are, well, working on it: Employees at Catapult just announced the formation of the Catapult Workers Collective. On Instagram, they wrote, “The goal of our union is to protect the wages and benefits of our workplace, to affirm the dignity and value of our labor, and to advance just and sustainable practices in our industry. We’re immensely proud of what we do, but little is guaranteed for employees without a union.” Workers at the American Library Association have also formed a union. In response, the ALA’s executive director said the organization “will engage in this process thoughtfully and in good faith.” Indie Bookstores Are Flourishing “In 2025 alone,” says a piece at Fast Company, “422 new bookstores opened, according to the American Booksellers Association.” The year before that, 323 bookstores opened. I am old enough to remember when independent bookstores were declared dead. I am deeply glad that the reports of their demise were exaggerated. We can order anything online. Many people do. But many people have also realized that bookstores are community spaces, resources, events hubs, and so much more. As Fast Company notes, “Independent bookstores have made a sense of community core to their identity.”  That was especially on display earlier this year, when Minnesota indies joined in the protests against ICE. This community support expanded beyond Minneapolis: I can’t tell you how many posts I saw across different social networks, encouraging readers to order from these stores as they did everything they could to support their neighbors. Publishers Keep Starting New Imprints Okay, so this one’s a little inside baseball, but it still seems like a good thing to me: A lot of publishers started a lot of new imprints last year! That includes Simon & Schuster’s horror imprint, 12:01 Books, and Tor’s catchall imprint, Wildthorn. In 2024, Hachette started its own horror imprint, Run for It, and in 2023 Tor added the romance-focused Bramble.  It’s always interesting to see the focus of new imprints, which pretty clearly reflect where publishers think there’s money to be made. And while it doesn’t go into the “good stuff” tally, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that there’s also recently been a huge loss, imprint-wise, as Farrar, Straus & Giroux opted to shutter MCD, the imprint that launched a ton of nifty-sized paperbacks (and much more!), including Jeff VanderMeer’s Southern Reach books.  Books Are Everywhere On Screen I don’t have to tell you this one. Who doesn’t know about Heated Rivalry, by this point? And while I may personally be exhausted of trips to Westeros, the George R.R. Martin cinematic universe shows no signs of slowing. Rebecca Yarros’ blockbuster book series is in development as a TV series. A Dungeon Crawler Carl series is coming. The trailer for The Sheep Detectives is a thousand times more charming than it needed to be. When Hollywood isn’t busy adapting video games, it’s adapting books. Are they always the ones we want to see adapted? Nope! I still hold that if we can spend this much time and money in Westeros, we can at least visit the Six Duchies. Maybe someday. But still: adaptations are booming. And a lot of them are romantasy. AI Is Not Inevitable I have simply lost track of the number of times I have side-eyed the New York Times over their coverage of AI and books. A recent newsletter used the tiresome word “inevitable.” Listen: Nothing about the thing we’re calling AI—I really prefer to put it in scare quotes, but I know that gets annoying—is inevitable. People make choices, and a lot of people are choosing not to engage with this intensely questionable tech. Every time a new “AI is here to stay and here’s how it’s ruining publishing” article comes out, authors take to social media to decry it, and to say they’re not using it.  Some of them have gone a step further: LitHub has an article from Sarah Hall, who put a “human written” stamp on her newest novel, Helm. Hall writes, “From those first hand-scrawled sentences to the final dementing rearrangement of commas, my books are very humanly made: proudly, imperfectly, with difficulty and with tremendous care. They are felt as they are composed, painfully, joyously, cellularly—and they are designed for other biological beings to experience, to connect with, to be animated, provoked and moved by.” AI is not inevitable.  Dolly Parton Remains a Force for Good Imagine what the world might be like if more rich people were interested in things like giving free books to every Indiana kid under 5. Readers Keep Funding Writing and Criticism Last week, the Ancillary Review of Books launched a fundraiser—and met their initial goal under an hour. This is great for them, and for SFF criticism. It’s also not a huge shock if you look at the fundraising efforts of some of the genre’s other magazines: In 2024, Uncanny raised more than double their goal. They then aimed high in 2025, and more than met that goal, too. Strange Horizons also regularly beat their goals by miles. I find this all very heartening, and a sign that people are not only reading books; they’re also reading short fiction, and criticism, and analysis, and commentary—all from a variety of sources. It’s a really, really hard time for critics, journalists, fiction writers, anyone who works with words. Community fundraising might not be the ideal way to keep publications afloat, but when it works? That’s a good thing. Book Bans Are Dire, But They Can Still Fail Florida just defeated not one but three book banning bills. Florida! If you look at the American Library Association’s adverse legislation tracker, you’ll see quite a few book banning bills that never made it into law.  There are still more of these attempts being made, all over the country. PEN America called the banning attempts of the last four years “unprecedented and undeniable.” Most Americans oppose book bans, but also, most of us just don’t do anything about it. Now, with a troubling book-banning bill in the House, would be a really good time to speak up. (It’s also almost Right to Read Day! That’s on April 20th. Kind of a funny day for it.) More good news, though, on this front: We Need Diverse Books recently launched a new initiative, the Unbanned Books Network, which plans to choose 20 classrooms across the country, “in communities heavily affected by book bans,” and give them each around 100 banned titles (and a library cart to hold all those books!).  Translated Literature is Having a Great Moment This year, the Locus Awards include a category for translated novels—and the top ten is a banger list. And the Center for the Art of Translation just announced a massive new project to open a literary and cultural center in San Francisco. It will include the West Coast’s only all-translated-literature bookstore, host events, be a resource, and generally just be awesome. If you don’t read a ton of SFF in translation, that’s understandable; it can be hard to come by. Which is exactly they the Locus Award spotlight is so necessary. There’s an entire globe of speculative fiction out there that those of us who only read English can’t access—until it’s been translated. There are also probably a lot of authors who could benefit from being introduced to the English-speaking book market. It’s win-win for readers and writers if we get more work in translation into US bookshops. For one thing, we need all the perspectives we can get.[end-mark] The post The Book News Isn’t All Bad appeared first on Reactor.

News The Terror: Devil in Silver The Terror: Devil In Silver Trailer Almost Gives Us Enough Dan Stevens The Terror: Devil in Silver will adapt the Victor LaValle novel of the same name By Matthew Byrd | Published on April 15, 2026 Image: AMC Comment 0 Share New Share Image: AMC The first trailer for AMC’s The Terror: Devil in Silver emphasizes the two best things the series has going for it at the outset: an incredibly frightening premise based on the novel of the same name by Victor LaValle and an ample amount of lead actor Dan Stevens. The Devil in Silver trailer follows a man named Pepper who finds himself in one of the ultimate nightmare scenarios after he is wrongfully committed to a less-than-reputable psychiatric hospital. And while works like One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest taught us all about the many horrors that can occur to such an individual in such a place, this particular hospital seems to be the home of a monstrous demon who lives alongside the ghosts of its patients’ and doctors’ pasts. Without going too far into the plot of the book, it’s safe to say that Pepper soon finds himself regretting being admitted into the one hospital in the United States that an insurance company seemingly isn’t in a hurry to get you out of. While the criminally underutilized Stevens (where is our sequel to The Guest?) steals much of the trailer’s runtime, Devil in Silver benefits from an incredible cast of character actors and generally underrated players. Joining Stevens on his journey into hell are Stephen Root, Michael Aronov, Marin Ireland, CCH Pounder, Judith Light, and more in currently unconfirmed roles. Behind the scenes, Karyn Kusama (The Invitation, Jennifer’s Body) will direct the season’s first two episodes and serve as executive producer alongside Stevens, Ridley Scott, Chris Cantwell (Halt and Catch Fire), and Victor LaValle. LaValle and Cantwell are also credited as the show’s writers, with LaValle also handling showrunning duties. The Terror has proven to be one of AMC’s most fascinating experiments. The anthology series’ acclaimed first season (based on the novel of the same name) followed a group of Arctic explorers whose ship crashes forcing them to survive in one of the most hellish environments you could ever hope to find at the end of the world. The second season (The Terror: Infamy) told an original story about a family that was imprisoned in an internment camp during World War II. While praised for its premise and the ways it addressed one of the most under-discussed atrocities in U.S. history, the season ultimately received mixed reviews. Still, this series has quickly established itself as one of the most reliable sources for fascinating horror stories that take some pretty big swings. The Terror: Devil in Silver will premiere on May 7 on AMC+ and Shudder.[end-mark] The post <i>The Terror: Devil In Silver</i> Trailer Almost Gives Us Enough Dan Stevens appeared first on Reactor.

Excerpts Young Adult Read an Excerpt From Senescence by Shelby Nicole Time and fate are at a tipping point. Can true love rewrite history, or will Jade’s second chance at love slip through her fingers forever? By Shelby Nicole | Published on April 15, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from Senescence, the second installment in Shelby Nicole’s YA paranormal romance Grove Hollow—out from Delacorte Press on December 1st. Jade thought she had lost Will forever… so his return to her through a magical mirror is shocking. Even more shocking: He’s no longer a ghost. To blend in, he enrolls at Grove Hollow Academy with Jade and the Misfits. But as the couple will soon learn, destiny has plans for Jade and Will. With Will’s return come his secrets—and his past loves. And when Jade and Will are approached by ancient gods with a life-changing message, Jade will have to decide where her heart lies.Time and fate are at a tipping point. Can true love rewrite history, or will Jade’s second chance at love slip through her fingers forever? Blackhill Cemetery Wes nods, picking up the thread. “So, what you’re saying is, if there’s no grave, it means Will is really here to stay?” The hope on Will’s face fades, replaced by a frown on his lips. His eyes drift to the cemetery, where the gray, foggy horizon stretches endlessly, marked by scattered rows of weathered headstones. “As if I was never murdered?” he asks himself. “That I maybe never existed at all before now. My identity… erased completely…” His words falter, leaving a void that none of us dares to fill. The group instinctively closes in, our footsteps leaving trails in the frosted ground as we gather around him. I tug at his coat sleeve. “You’re still you, Will,” I say firmly. “Whatever the locket did or didn’t do, it doesn’t change who you are.” Will’s voice trembles, his eyes glistening. “That’s not what I’m concerned about. It’s that if I never existed… then who am I?” The tip of my nose stings. I think, again, of my grandfather’s sea shack. That place is a part of who I am. It’s where I sat in front of the fire, reading my books and watching television with my grandfather. What would it feel like if someone told me these memories, these pieces of myself, never happened? That they never existed? Even with the unsettling truths now altering my perception of my grandfather, it doesn’t change the fact that he was my family. He was a giant part of my childhood. He’s still a part of me. But if Will never existed, and without his memories, he had no past to hold on to. His parents never knew him. He never knew them. My heart sinks. Why did I think this was a good idea? I didn’t fully realize the consequence of this question, of how much it could hurt Will, and how much his struggle to understand his past life might tear him apart. Now I’m not sure I want to know if we’ll find his grave. What if it’s gone? What if nothing remains of him to prove he ever existed at all? While a part of me selfishly hopes it’s not there, hoping my dream was just a dream and not some form of premonition, I can’t ignore what that would mean for Will. The lump in my throat grows at the severity of that realization. The world is frozen quiet. Just the six of us, standing on the border of a reality we can’t fully grasp, daring to hope that this fragile second chance might mean something more. “I guess there’s only one way to find out,” Davy says, pointing toward the graveyard’s tall, iron gate. Each step into the graveyard is a descent into death, now surrounded by the muted presence of countless buried souls. The tombstones stretch out in every direction. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of grave markers rise from the earth. Their edges are worn and weathered by time, covered in snow, dirt, and dead moss that dulls the words engraved on them. Occasionally, an angelic headstone rises above the others. Her mournful eyes follow us as we tiptoe. Amid the lonely, bleak horizon, a solitary red cardinal perches on the twisted branch of an ancient elm. It reminds me of the one I saw at Montgomery Manor. It doesn’t move as it watches us. Will guides us along the stone path, his steps sure, as if he’s memorized the way. We tread behind him with careful footfall, too afraid that even the smallest sound might disturb the dead. “This place is freezing. I don’t think I’ll ever feel warm again,” Julian mutters, zipping up his leather jacket. “The chill seeps into my bones.” Davy quivers. The whites of Aubrey’s eyes shine in the half light. “It’s always colder and darker here, even on the hottest summer day when the trees are full of leaves.” “How many times have you been here, Will?” Wes voices the question I’ve been hesitant to ask, unsure if it’s too delicate to bring up. “I’m not sure. I never kept count. Perhaps a couple hundred?” There’s a raw sadness in his reply that slips through. “There was a time I came almost every day just to talk to my mother,” he adds. The crack in his voice catches in his throat, and his reflective words and longing for his mother pull at my heart. “Sometimes, I would hope… hope that maybe a spirit like mine, another lost soul, might be wandering these grounds. A ghost, I guess. Just so I wouldn’t be alone. But it’s been… since the sixties since I’ve returned.” “Why’s that?” Aubrey’s words are faint. “The funerals,” he murmurs. “So many young men… so many sons, all of them too close to my age, dying fighting in Vietnam. Every time I came here, there was another grieving family. Another boy buried too young. I couldn’t bear it. The sight of them broke me. All of their lives and dreams were taken before they even had a chance to begin. Like me.” “That must have been really tough for you,” Julian says, his hand resting on Will’s back. Will nods with mournful eyes lost somewhere in the past. There’s nothing more to say. We all understand. He continues guiding us down the hill to a grander section of the cemetery, where the gravestones rise higher and grow more elaborate. Here, tombs with wrought-iron gates stand in rows, and intricate statues of elegant obelisks, pedestal tombs, and broken pillars mark the resting places of the departed. Frozen shrubs and frostbitten flowers, once meant to add life and color, exist in an elegant attempt to elevate this area. It seems the souls here hold greater importance than those buried in the humbler grounds beyond. Buy the Book Senescence Shelby Nicole Buy Book Senescence Shelby Nicole Buy this book from: AmazonBarnes and NobleiBooksIndieBoundTarget “Hey, Will, here are some Ashmore tombs,” Wes says, gesturing toward a short row of tombs that look more like miniature townhomes than burial sites. A few marble obelisks and gravestones stand among them, all remarkably well-kept. No dead branches or overgrown brush in sight. I wouldn’t be surprised if Allison’s family hired someone to maintain them. “Maybe there’s a Victoria somewhere,” Will says. We split up, scanning the tombstones for any sign of the name, but we come up empty-handed. “Jade, look,” Aubrey says, pointing to a stunning stone statue of a weeping female angel. She stands naked, her hand reaching upward to the sky as if pleading for redemption and grace. Below her rests a rectangular tomb with the name WHITNEY etched into the stone. I stop and stare at my last name in disbelief. “I bet it’s one of your ancestors.” I consider the tomb of someone I’ve never known. Someone linked to me by blood, blood that now mingles with the earth beneath my feet. A chill shudders through me. I find myself beside the marble tomb, tracing the letters etched on the gravestone with my finger. “Bruce Whitney, born eighteen sixty-two to Octavius Whitney and Tabatha Whitney.” I pause, recalling Aunt Ruth’s words from the first night I arrived at Blythe House. Octavius Whitney was my great-great-great-grandfather, twin to Augustus Whitney, who founded Whitney & Whitney Oil Company with his brother. “Died nineteen thirty-one. Loving, devoted husband to Emily Whitney, and father to Bruce Whitney Jr.” Wes gestures toward a tall marble tomb on a slight rise in the cemetery, commanding attention. It dwarfs the other graves, intended as a deliberate display of power and wealth. The tomb’s foundation is massive, complete with a pedestal where people can sit and admire the intricate details carved into its surface of roses and vines. Every curve and edge is perfectly executed. The grandeur of it all makes the surrounding graves seem insignificant, as if this tomb was built to remind everyone of the influence and legacy of its occupant. The name Octavius Whitney is impeccably etched into the eternally sealed door. A tribute to the man who helped build the foundation of the Whitney family’s legacy and fortune. “It feels odd, standing here next to the tombs of people connected to me, yet I know nothing about who they were,” I mutter. Aubrey drapes her arm around me. “Does it make you feel sad, not knowing them?” I pause in front of the opulent tomb. Mr. O’Connor hinted more than once at my family’s shady business history, and now, standing here, it feels almost ironic—this grand monument trying to dress up a life built on greed and deceit. As if marble and gold could rewrite who Octavius really was or somehow justify his legacy. If the Egyptian goddess Ma’at were to weigh his heart against her feather, I’m certain it would sink like a boulder from all the corruption. Wherever he is now, I can only hope he’s being held accountable. “No. It’s oddly comforting. Their secrets, whatever dark bargains they struck, are buried with them. They’ll face their judgment in the afterlife. I’d rather not know what they did to bring our family to a point where my grandfather was taking lives at such a young age.” “Let’s hope you never have to,” Aubrey says. “Jade!” Will calls. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I turn to find him standing over a nearby grave, pointing to a marble headstone decorated with two cherubs. One cherub’s arm is missing as if it broke off long ago, and their heads are dusted with snow. I brush aside the brittle, lifeless branch that covers the headstone. The words carved root my feet to the ground: Here lies Maura Whitney, the beloved wife of Augustus Whitney and mother of Poppet Whitney. My breath stops. My hands cover my mouth as I read the name again. I glance around, eyes scanning the tombstones nearby. “I checked. There are no headstones near her mother’s grave with her name on it,” Will says. “Whose?” Wes asks as the others draw near. “Poppet. The ancestor of Jade’s who murdered me and my family. It appears she has no gravestone here.” I roll the green beetle between my thumbs. “No. There would be no grave. Maybe a memorial, but there wouldn’t be a body to bury,” I whisper. The cold breeze blows and prickles skin. “Poppet went missing after she killed Will. The Whitney family covered it up after she ran away.” “Assuming Will was even murdered. Assuming he has a past,” Julian says. “Let’s keep moving.” I walk beside Aubrey and Julian, trailing behind Wes and Davy, with Will once again taking the lead. His hands fidget in his coat pockets while his legs move in lengthy, brisk strides. Our breaths come quickly, with each exhale a cloud escaping our mouths into the cold air. The space between us is shrinking, as the unknown creeps closer. I think I’m not alone in sensing we’ll be arriving at Will’s grave soon. My fingers twist the locket. The scarab clinks against my collar buttons, and my nails dig into the gold metal and green stone. Will’s footsteps slow, then stop entirely under the stone archway of a family plot. Like a ripple, we all follow suit. I slip through the group and squeeze to his side. My heart feels like lead as I glance up at him. His face is pale and drained of color. His expression is so ghostly that I momentarily forget he’s alive. His eyes hold a distant haze. It tells me his mind is no longer here but lost down a rabbit hole of thoughts he can’t seem to climb out of. I can feel in my bones how much the unknown before him is tearing him apart. Whatever lies ahead, it’s no longer his burden alone to carry. It’s all of ours now. I take his hand, and together, the six of us move forward, stepping into the Montgomery family plot. The fading light of the setting sun, dimmed by heavy snow clouds, casts a mournful glow over each grave we pass. The headstones stand close together. Proof of the unbroken bond of the Montgomery bloodline. Stone upon stone, as if even in death, they refused to be separated. Beside me, Will’s pace slows. His breath comes in shallow, uneven clouds of steam against the cold air. Next to me is his mother’s grave. Its century of age never hindered its elegance. The limestone headstone, rounded and weathered, is surrounded by an old iron enclosure. The fence is no longer upright but leaning sideways as if it might collapse at any moment. The ornamental stone vases, once home to beautiful flowers, now stand empty. Will doesn’t acknowledge her burial site. His eyes are fixed straight ahead as if refusing to look could somehow ease the pain. I know him. I know it’s his way of coping. Avoiding the places that hold her absence, whether in her bedroom or at her grave. If time really does heal all wounds, then I suspect the years spent avoiding her resting place only worsened his. My heart aches, knowing he’s waging an internal war to hold himself together while her loss, still fresh even after all these years, threatens to shatter him. I hold his hand firmly, offering what little comfort I can. He squeezes back. We move on, passing his father’s grave, the largest in the family plot. Its tall marble obelisk rises with a mournful, commanding presence; though not as grand or ostentatious as my great-great-great-grandfather’s monument, that feels fitting. It speaks to who Will’s father was and what was important to him, I think. A humbling humility that sets him apart from the greed and vanity embedded into my own family’s legacy. And then we come to a halt. I hadn’t anticipated how much this view would hit me. The dread in my chest pushes the air from my lungs and makes it nearly impossible to breathe. I steady myself by planting my feet hard into the ground, resisting the wave of lightheadedness. Standing before us is a monument to grief. A tombstone carved with an hourglass and wings. The stone wall enclosure stretches the length of Will’s six-foot body before it. This is the final marker in the line. No one says a word, as if time itself has halted. “William Montgomery. Loved deeply by father Albert Montgomery and mother Cornelia Montgomery. Born July 13, 1864. Died December 23, 1885,” Aubrey reads. I let out a staggered sigh. My brain gradually absorbs the meaning of the engraved writing. Will’s arm slips around my body. I hold him, unwilling to believe what I’m seeing. How am I in love with a man, his arms wrapped around me yet buried just beneath the earth we stand on? “May I?” Wes is the first to speak as he seeks Will’s permission to enter the grave’s shadowed boundary. Will’s nod brushes the top of my head, even as I stay pressed against his chest. Wes and Davy lead the way, crossing the stone enclosure’s threshold first, followed by Aubrey, then Julian. Will takes my hand and I follow his lead. We stand above where his century-old body rests six feet below us. All of us sit on the edge of the stone fence, huddled together, with eyes tracing the old-fashioned letters carved into Will’s gravestone. “I don’t get it,” Julian mutters, his fingers running over the back of his neck. “How are you here… if you’re down there?” It’s the question that’s probing at us all. Excerpted from Senescence, copyright © 2026 by Shelby Nicole. The post Read an Excerpt From <i>Senescence</i> by Shelby Nicole appeared first on Reactor.