Black Fantasy Novels & Stories

Phantoms. They linger, half-formed echoes of wolves and witches long since burned. This was a battleground once, not just of blood, but betrayal. Packs turned on packs. Secrets were sold here. And in the heart of it, somewhere among the withered roots, lies Ashbane. The Black Hills are nothing like their name. They are red at sunrise, golden at noon, and so dark by twilight they swallow even memory. The further I go, the thicker the air gets, not with fog or smoke, but with the weight of something ancient. Cursed land remembers what was done to it. And I have walked far enough into this forest to know, it remembers me too.

The black ink of the brand, saturated with Zilo’s ancient vampire essence, didn't just resist the Fae energy; it snarled. The two forces—one born of the sunless depths of the vampire covens, the other of the wild, unbridled starlight of the Fae—clashed within her sternum. It felt like her ribs were being turned into white-hot iron. The black ink began to boil, swirling into a miniature hurricane of dark ichor that fought to contain the sapphire brilliance of the stone. "Let go, Sofia! You’re going to blow us all to hell!" Zack groaned from the floor, his body still twitching from the previous psychic shock.

She was a legend people either feared or pretended not to know. And Blackwood had witches. Hybrid, lunatic, chicken-blooded witches who could sniff secrets out of bones and dreams. “Vivienne Moreau,” he called, voice sharper now, and deliberate. “Open the damn door.” Yep. That was it. Funeral bells. End credits. Roll the fucking montage. I can see my family calling me to join them in hell. “Damn you, Atlas Blackwood,” I muttered under my breath, pacing once, twice, then stopping dead.

Mane confessed. “Until today,” Hildegarde said, and Mane nodded in agreement, “Until today.” “Nightmares: a level of power long forgotten because of the rarity of people with this level of power. But that was what the Black Dragon was. And like other Mystic Path Users at the Nightmare level, he had his own title: the Black Warrior. Because Mystic Path Users were fundamentally different from New Types, they didn’t earn titles based on ordinary animal forms because their power was beyond that. They could summon flames and ice and could manipulate the elements based on their affinities. And the Black Warrior was no different. Legend says that he had the ability to manipulate darkness, and his p

As the black rain continued to fall, the sense of tension in the room lingered and never dissipated, a constant reminder of the unpredictable nature of the world they now inhabited. In Brandon's mind, as he hugged his lover, a certain memory from his past life came into his mind. He remembered that when it all started, there was indeed a black rain pouring over the whole country. Those who got weak in just an hour all had a fever. Some of them died and became mindless creatures, and some of them obtained abilities. Those who haven't managed before the end of the world or right after the end of the world, this is the chance for them to have the ability.

A dozen elite enforcers leaped forward from the shadows, their fangs bared and claws extended, charging like a tidal wave of muscle and fur. The stranger didn't flinch. With a flick of his wrist, a blinding wave of bright blue energy erupted from his palms once again, sweeping across the floor like a shockwave. The leading enforcers slammed hard against the invisible barrier, lifted off their feet, and crashed violently into the heavy oak dining tables, splintering wood and shattering crystal decanters everywhere. Panic exploded through the gallery. Shifter women screamed, delegates scrambled backward over their chairs, and chaos took over the room.

“This isn't about the money. You're beginning to create a scene and if you keep this up, there'll definitely be a brawl here tonight.“ “Doesn't sound like a bad idea, does it?“ Arthur grinned, arching a brow. “I don't think you've noticed, but you're out-numbered.“ “I don't think you've noticed but I'm not a guy to give up something I want without a fight,“ “You've got a death wish. Why did you choose this nightclub to make it happen?“ Arthur was silent. But deep down, he was yelling out his frustration. He didn't have a death wish. Not when he's been dead for a long time. And that's why, so desperately, he's holding on to the insane reality playing out tonight. He needed to be alive again.

This is just how people are trying to end my life, bit–by–bit. The sky changed its colour from blue to black. The thunder struck from the distance and lightening flashed lit up the horizon. This is what they want my life to turn to, causing me darkness, pains, sorrow. They want my life to make the loudest voice to people. They want my story to be heard, my life to be ruined. I wouldn't allow that, not anymore!

She glanced at the bottom of the page where she saw that it was written by, Mariana Victain. “The Supreme Magus?” This got her intrigued to continue reading the entire excerpt. “The treasures of Immortalis are biologically engineered artefacts known as Black Liver and Silver Fangs. Both were created after several experimental failures involving the blood of the innocent and the tainted hearts of the most vicious wild beasts. The key component of crafting these artefacts came from the hidden inscription on the Cronus monolith. This ancient discovery could only be understood by an adept sorcerer known as Olken Vaud.

I’ll even help you deal with any of them. “And how would I know you won’t back stab me?” “The same way I know you won’t. It’s not your reputation. Look up Black Dogs. You know of them?” “Order of mercenaries.” “Bingo,” the man said. “Asked them about Vanargand.” “I see.” “You heard of the name?” “It’s another name for Fenrir, monster-wolf of Norse mythology.” “I thought using Fenrir could be copyright infringement, or just piss the guy off.” “That would be unwise.”