Alastor Sketch Novels & Stories

He turned him so his face was directly facing me. "Now. Why. Did. You. Touch. Her?" he commanded, his voice laced with anger and authority. "He wants to kill her." he whimpered. And then Ozymandius bought his hand which now had claws and dugged them straight into the monsters neck. The monsters breathing became harsh and within seconds he turned into ashes. I coudnt believe this. Ozymandius was a monster. I burried my face into Alexander's chest and it was not long before I started crying.

“Or are you just wanting to flirt? I can leave you alone if that is the case.” ‘ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?,’ my wolf barks, piercing his claws into the walls of my mind, triggering my eyes to close shortly, before I can subdue the pain and force them to open again. I really don’t want to seem like the creep here. “Oh,” General Alastor laughs in an annoying manner, and I scrunch up my face. “No, no. I was meaning to come and pick you up to show you the newest results of our investigation.”

Harlow growled and transformed into a large gray Lycan. Alastair grinned with a crooked smile. “Baby, I was already in hell.” He transformed into a black Lycan standing 6 ft 8”. His head nearly touched the hanging chandelier. Using shadow magic, I trapped Alastair’s feet to the ground. Black shadows gripped his ankles in place, enough to give Harlow an opening. At super speed, Harlow shredded Alastair’s body. Though his feet were bound, Alastair’s hands were still free. His hand swung faster and slammed Harlow’s body into the wall. We were too late to see it.

After all, I was still the omega who had gotten into a fight. In his words, I was nothing more than a pretty bauble. So I let my mind wander, my pencil drifting across my notebook as I sketched a plan. I had to protect Cam and find a way to keep him safe from Alastair's cruelty. The only way to do that was to draw up options. Before I could help it, I was already drawing Alastair as a big meanie with horns and a pitchfork. I couldn't help but smile slightly at the accuracy of the caricature.

Alastor moved through it all like he'd been here a thousand times, -–well he probably does— leading us down alleys and through shadowed passages. Finally, he stopped in front of a nondescript door in a back street. "Here," he said, knocking three times. The door opened a crack. A woman's face appeared. She had sharp features, dark eyes and a scar running down her cheek. "Alastor," she said flatly. "You've got some nerve." "Good to see you too, Sera." He smiled. "Can we come in?" She looked past him at the rest of us, her gaze lingering on me.

Aleister said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “She wouldn’t even let me go to school. My only friend was this old hag.” Angelica elbowed Astra in an attempt to be funny. “Ha, Ha you did know my real age till a few days ago.” Astra rolled her eyes with a dry laugh. “I am extremely thirsty. Can we leave this place?” Aleister asked as his throat began to dry up. “Oh, of course, let's get going.” Astra agreed as she pulled an orb from her bag and tossed it at the closed end of the mausoleum. Once the portal settled, they rushed in.

I heard the alarms being disabled and within seconds the cold night air seeped into the house, shadow weavers emerged all around us, howls of wolves filled the house at the same moment. Alester shifted into his demon half, showing his long hoofs and ram like horns. His eyes were orange and leaked out fire. He roared, releasing the net we had cast from him and sending everyone flying back. I hit the wall behind me hard, letting the air slip out of my throat. Alester was on us before we had time to recuperate. He lifted us up by the throat and choked us. I began coughing and kicking in a desperate attempt to free myself. The shadow weavers began to wrap him in layer after layer of shadows.

On his black bookshelf sat a comic book collection that would make Kiaan jealous as well as books with symbols—some of which she recognised from Damien's jewellery. "So from what you said, it sounds like you guys were trying to summon an Alastor," he said as if the solution were obvious. "Exactly what I was thinking," Jess joked. Malus laughed. "These things usually last for a limited time." After going to his shelf and selecting a black covered book. When he opened it up, Jess saw it was full of handwritten script and drawings. He licked his thumb and flicked through the thick, off-white sheets. "Ah, did you notice if there was a full moon at the night of the spell?" he asked.

Allistair dipped the tip of his brush into the paint, nodding slowly. "With you reminding me, how could I? Feeling a sense of contentment, Allistair finished his painting and when he looked at it. He was taken aback of what he painted absentmindedly while talking to his inner wolf. It was the painting of King Samael's face Well fuck me! He cussed silently while his wolf echoed the same words in his mind Feeling irritated he left his sanctuary and teleported to the living room, where his family awaited.

He’s wearing a coffee filter as a hat, and someone drew a pirate’s eye patch, scars and a scruffy beard across his face. The guilty party is lying passed out on the floor nearby clutching a sharpie. Exhibit B. Alastaire’s fingers are stained black where they grip the marker. His burnished blonde halo of hair is messed up and lopsided in a way he’d never let it be while awake. He’s lying on his back, smiling that devilish angel’s grin of his, the very picture of rakish, aristocratic charm even in his sleep. Exhibit C.