Baphomet Helltaker Novels & Stories

The only thing on Summers Hartley’s mind was revenge. Being a half-breed, she was born extremely weak and completely incapable of protecting herself or anyone, and that cost her. Her family was slaughtered, and her pack was reduced to ashes. As the Alpha heir to Silverguard pack, she swore to destroy the monsters responsible: the Bloodmoon pack. When the perfect chance for revenge arrives, she hides behind a new identity as the dying Alpha’s personal healer and enters the Bloodmoon pack. Every day she heals the pack, she has promised to destroy. Sworn to pay back the same hand, her mission is simple: poison the Alpha who murdered her people and, together with her uncle, destroy eve

“Fuck you. It is, in the end. You, Kujo, the Blotters, you guys were right about him. He’s dangerous and we cannot trust him. If the parasites made him break in the other night, what would they make him do if I keep cleansing him? Kill me? I’m sorry, but we need a new plan B.” Amy let me vent out in silence and sighed, shaking her head slightly. I kept my eyes on the road, boiling inside with an anger I’d never felt before. Because I knew she was right: I wasn’t doing any of this for the Haunter Supreme. I was doing it because I needed him. He was a tool. The key to unlock Kujo’s chain and set him free. I owed Kujo that. And the Blotters. “Fuck!” I snarled when I spotted the Manor gates up a

She would find a way out, no matter what it took. As she began to explore her surroundings, Edna noticed something strange. The creatures that roamed this part were not the same as the ones she had encountered in the other places of hell. They were darker, more twisted, and far more dangerous. She quickly realized that she was going to have to adapt if she wanted to survive. It wasn't long before Edna came face to face with one of Hell's most powerful denizens: Belphegor, the demon of sloth. He towered over her, his massive frame covered in black scales and adorned with wicked spikes.

As the purple-robed hag finished, she disappeared instantly as she leaped at Caleb, her terrible aura erupting! Her palm was about to reach Caleb's head, ready to blow him up! Caleb narrowed his eyes—he couldn't beat the purple-robed hag, but he wouldn't be cowed! Boom! "Blood God Order, First Style—Blood Demon Flash!" His sentence erupted, surrounding him with a black glow. However, the purple-robed hag's palm had already reached him, and he raised the Dharmic Cutter to parry it.

she hesitantly asked tightening their entwined hands. " I am BENJAMIN DIOR WALKER, the Sanguine Tyrant of the Verboten World."

Hours later, Griff and I returned with Lydia and the enforcers to the Living World, where I discovered why Beowulf had rejected Lydia and sacrificed her to Fenrir. The other half of her soul was more like a Hellhound than a wolf and more like an anubis dog than a Hellhound. Her face was hairless, with a long snout, needle-sharp teeth, and flame-yellow eyes. On her chest glowed the same symbol that had been on the medallion Griff had given me to be able to enter the Hellfire pack’s enclosure. She also breathed fire. We went back to the Atlantis Hospital, where Healer Sakhet examined us both for signs of faerie bargains and demonic curses. Griff’s soul was clear, but mine still had remnants of

“Are these your ritual tools?” “The blade is. It's called an athame. The bowl was just sitting on the mantle with some fake fruit in it, but magicians use what we can,” he scoffed. “Are you ready to begin?” “Yes,” Bella said, watching warily as he opened the door. “Trust me, a couple of inches of pine and a security system aren't. keeping any hunters out,” Hunter said, taking a seat on the outer part of the chalk sigil. He motioned for Bella to do the same, so she knelt between two of the candles.

Isabella whispered, her voice a jagged rasp. "The heavens do not care for 'supposed to,' my lady." Isabella spun around, her crystalline claws—remnants of her vampire transition—extending instinctively. Standing in the darkness of the archway was a figure that seemed to absorb the violet light. He was gaunt, his skin the color of damp parchment, and his eyes were two flat, milky orbs. He was a Dealer of the Black-Sun Sect, a group of mercenaries who specialized in the "Unmaking" of supernatural icons.

reminded the gloomy demon to the aging Helia Baal. “I'd be devouring every human child– I will not be buried in darkness, Siegfried,” said the old witch with a grating laugh but had struggled to carry her wicker baskets full of twelve chickens. “The infrequent rainfall has weakened you, Helia Baal,” said the demon helping his mistress to lift over her shoulder the two cages that had been tied together to a sling. She agonized and had dropped the wicker cages to the seamless floor. “Bring out my philter then, Goat-Head,” said Helia in a voice that was almost taut and brittle.

Something they had already agreed upon before he showed up at her tavern with Dhara by his side. “I would need a few drops of blood for the spell,” she demanded in her natural tone, the earlier buoyant woman long gone who greeted them back at the counter. “Blood?” Dhara sucked in a painful breath, her eyes bulging out in pure horror. She almost looked prepared to dash the hell out of there, just like she did back in his hotel room. The memory almost brought a fond smile to his face. Almost. But seeing her panicked expressions, his heart pinched a little.