Beautiful Carnage Novels & Stories

he paused and pointed the gun at Cynthia. "You were so good in bed, I foolishly let you into my bed without knowing that you are Delilah. Thank God I am not Sampson who was blinded by sweet pûssy. I am smarter than you" he shrugged. "How much did that guy pay you? Oh, maybe he fûcked you better than I did!" He laughed. "It feels good to waste the blood of those who betrayed you. It will be more fun sucking the blood of your enemies!"

Carmine, relishing in his dominance, spoke with a voice dripping with venom, each word a chilling threat. "So where were we, huh?!" his voice echoed, cutting through the silence like a knife. The sound of my sobs blended with the haunting ambiance, creating a dissonant symphony of pain and terror. It was a nightmare come to life. Clyde, despite his stoic demeanor, silently begged Carmine for mercy, his eyes betraying a glimmer of desperation. It was a plea for respite, a desperate hope that Carmine would show a shred of compassion. But in the twisted depths of his sadistic nature, Carmine reveled in the torment he inflicted upon his victims. He found pleasure in the power he held over us, sa

"Look at you, Amelia. You're like a madwoman!" She pointed out the car window. "Do you know where we are? This is where the wolves tore Heidi apart! I'm going to make sure you meet the same fate!" Fear gripped my heart, yet I did not seem to care. Death might even be a relief at this point. "Go to hell!" Mandy flung open the car door and shoved me out. I hit the ground hard, but the physical pain paled in comparison to the sorrow in my heart. Soon, the car's headlights faded into the distance, leaving me engulfed in darkness.

Claw City Park 1500s Kayla is the most beautiful woman to behold, I could look into her alluring eyes and forget the rest of the world existed. I bless the day I met her on the battlefield. The fear that was displayed in her eyes was evident. She faced her near death in the eyes. I had no business involving myself in the war that stirred up in my Park. If their Alpha could be comfortable seeing his park at war with folded hands, I could too.

The room remained silent still, when after what seemed like ages, he pulled the lever, and the body rose with a very quick snap and hung upside down, and the mad wiggled like a fish that has just been taken out of water. The sighs and the murmurs and the muffled cries heightened as the body kept wiggling in the sack, and I watched on, determined to make sure that she paid for what she did to the remains of my sister - even though the sight was too gory to watch. Unexpectedly, a loud blast went of and everyone stooped down until they were sure where the noise had come from. I stood still, curious to now too. It was so easy to trace the source of the noise from the smoke that still puffed fres

Someone to watch my back… in this life there was no one but me. The battlefield around us was a ruin. A shrine of violence. Cracked stone, scorched trees, bodies turned to pulp. Our movements had pulverized wolves, both corrupted and rogue, into nothing more than red stains on the earth. A meat pile. A twisted, steaming mound of shredded flesh, sundered limbs, and broken spines. The kind of thing you’d expect if a god took a blade to a slaughterhouse. And in the center of it all, Varen stood.

The air splits with the sound of battle—snarls, screams, and snapping bones. Within seconds, the clearing and the surrounding forest dissolve into chaos. Teeth clash. Blood sprays. Moonlight spills across the field like a cruel spotlight over carnage. Killan and Draven are carving through vampires with jagged branches ripped from the trees, staking them clean through their chests. Travis manipulates Zarek’s minions like puppets, twisting their bodies until they collapse in distorted agony. Catherine moves with deadly grace, ducking and weaving as she slices through the bloodsuckers, her blades leaving trails of red and ripped flesh.

"Prepare for your new prison, slave." The back door opened, and the witches jumped off the car, making way for four bulky men who lifted the cage with me in it and then carried it out. The rising sun blinded me, and I had to cover my eyes from the light, but as my eyes adjusted to the brightness, my heart stopped. Blood. The ground was painted in a raw-red color that sometimes blended with strokes of dark ashes and black charcoal. Dead bodies of young and old wolves gutted, cut, and ripped to pieces covered every inch of the ground. The four men who carried my cage walked, stomping on the torn flesh of their enemies—the wolves of Crimson Mountain Pack.

A scream rose to my throat, but I clamped a hand over my mouth. Bodies. So many of them. Ripped apart like rag dolls. Mangled limbs strewn carelessly across the earth like broken branches after a storm. Pools of blood shimmered under streaks of light, and as I stumbled back, I slipped, my boots skidding through wet crimson. God. I swallowed, bile rising in my throat. My breath came in shudders, but I forced my legs to move again. Past the carnage. Past the ruined souls. “Cade…” I whispered hoarsely. “Cade…”