Apocalyptic Beast Novels & Stories

Every nightmare. Apophis, god of chaos. Lilith, the original she-demon. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Whiro, god of darkness. Lamashtu, child-devouring Mesopotamian terror. Gods. Demons. Monsters. Twisted relics of faith. The sheer evil in this room chokes the air, and if we had lungs, I doubt we could breathe. Loviatar hasn’t told us why we’re here. Just that this “meeting” will help restore our strength. She promised vengeance. I believed her.

Sandra was different from the rumors and Aztec had seen it first hand and maybe that's why it was hard for her to accept this new reality. "Know your place, human!” Aztec warned, letting out a loud growl at Gemma, but the human wasn't about to back down. It seemed like they both had things to say and the only thing standing between them was their races. Beatrice watched amusedly as the human girl dared the barbaric and toxic alpha. This all seemed like beautiful chaos, and for the first time, they were not arguing about her. That had to count for something for her, trite?

The spells within promised immense strength and near invincibility, but they also carried dire warnings of the cost. Ignoring the warnings, Lola decided this was her path to power. She began to recite the incantations, her voice low and filled with determination. The air around her crackled with dark energy as she chanted, and shadows seemed to come alive. The transformation was swift and brutal. Her body contorted and grew, pain searing through her veins. In moments, she was no longer human but the dreaded Beast of Gévaudan. With a roar that shook the forest, Lola-the-Beast tore through the walls of the archive, emerging into the night with newfound power and an insatiable hunger. She had b

Crates of eggs were overturned, and food spilt across the ground. Most mothers yanked their daughters by the arms; guards shouted orders, but no one followed as boots pounded in all directions. An old man whispered as he fled past, “The Beast is hungry again.” “The Dreadborns are here!” Kaerith’s stomach clenched.

Out past everything, stretching across the horizon of the frozen wasteland, was the apocalypse. The first-born didn’t move like soldiers. They slid forward like a silent, unnatural sickness. There were thousands. They looked humanoid, sure, but they were entirely corrupted by old ice. Their flesh was a translucent blue, and their eyes were empty pits filled with glowing white frost. No weapons at all, just those long, jagged, icy talons that felt wrong, like winter had grown teeth. They didn’t have body heat. They didn’t have heartbeats. Nothing human left in them, not really. And they were aiming straight for the badlands.

Jane was the first to react, cursing at me, “You bitch, what nonsense are you spouting—an ability? Go die!” David immediately turned to Victor with forced respect. “Mr. Kane, my nephew has a fever. He’s probably about to awaken an ability too. Please kill Apple and avenge my son! Our whole family will follow you to the death and do whatever you command!” “I can die right now.” I looked Victor straight in the eye. “No one knows how many years this apocalypse will last. But I can promise you this—you won’t find anyone else who can give you clean water as quickly as I can.”

In addition to her, Silas stood around a heavy iron rod as if he wanted heroically sacrifice, even though he trembled all over the body. But the true power of nature passed them. Kael. He didn't need guns. His eyes burned in a toxic, bright bright green. The black claws were completely extended. With a mark-shaking, animalic boobs that contain the remaining residues of the dropship vibrating, the Apex jumped on the mutated colossus. Two monsters of the Old and New World crashed in the middle of my destroyed station to each other.

Just an order. I stepped out, closed the door behind me, and shifted back into my beast form. Stone blurred beneath my paws as I tore through Blackreach, past its gates and straight for the edge of the Whispering Woods. By the time I reached Brammon and Rhydan, the forest line was already crawling with movement. Manticores came first. Dozens of them—their humanlike faces fixed in those eerie, empty expressions. Lion bodies, scorpion tails arched high, each one moving in perfect, unnatural formation.

In all honesty, the rotations were for situations like that, so hopefully, the commanders and mobs would be able to handle it just fine. It was the first night of the apocalypse, but while the entire world burned, I was a moaning wreck in the arms of these two fierce beasts. Just what I wanted.

Handwriting from twelve years ago — the strokes heavier than they were now, the flourishes drawn wide and loose, like someone who wasn't afraid of wasting paper. I turned to page twelve. A layout diagram of the bunker. Seven bunks, one incubation unit, the storeroom at the end of the hallway, the concrete-sealed door nearly two feet thick. In the bottom right corner of the diagram, a note in my own handwriting: "The apocalypse has to feel real. Push the heat up, make the water filthy — let the audience practically smell it. Rotate the insiders every season, keep one genuinely unwitting participant — protects the ratings." After "genuinely unwitting," there was a note in parentheses. Just one