Black Hallows 소설 & 이야기

ADY “Where on earth is he?” I kept searching for Damon, but I always returned to the Ruins. I casually hopped over the fence and entered. The ruins are shrouded in an eerie silence, with darkness enveloping everything. I heard some unusual sounds coming from above. Out of nowhere, a hand landed on my shoulder, instantly sending a wave of warmth through my body. Damon casually stood in front of me and effortlessly switched places with me. I witnessed the boulder narrowly miss Damon’s back, causing a surge of shock to course through me. The boulder shattered upon impact, yet he remained utterly composed. How did Damon manage to surprise me and enter without my knowledge? How was he supposed to

The host chuckled, masking a hint of envy in her voice. "Welcome to 81.9 GistFM, I'm Aaaa-manda, and we're ready to delve into something spooky today. Though Halloween isn't here yet, we'll be discussing the supernatural, including Vampires, Werewolves, Ghosts, and even Witches. If young ones are tuned in, you might want to switch off the radio. But first, let's get down to business - do you believe in these supernatural entities? Miranda halted.

he said quietly, voice like a growl in the tensioned air. “They’re more than coming,” Raven murmured, the sense of foreboding crawling over her like cold fingers. “They’re relentless and they’re not alone.” From the mist-shrouded valley below, shadows began to shift as Hollowborn emerged first, monstrous and twisted, their forms vaguely human but malformed by the dark magic that gave them life. Their eyes glowed with an unnatural crimson, and their claws dug into the earth with a sound that made even hardened Riders shiver. Wolves with sleek black fur moved with them, unnaturally synchronized, their snarls cutting through the silence. But Raven’s heartbeat quickened as she noticed the humans

he said hoarsely. She nodded, tears burning. “I did.” His jaw clenched. “It’s accelerating.” Before she could ask what that meant, Lennox appeared in the doorway, uninjured but furious, eyes still glowing. Dante followed last, calm but lethal, a smear of blood across his knuckles. “Rogue’s dead,” Lennox said flatly. “But others will come.” Dante’s gaze snapped to Ari. “You’re bleeding.” She looked down. A thin line of blood had appeared on her palm where her nails had bitten into skin. But that wasn’t what scared her.

“Then you must destroy the Hallow.” I force myself to meet her eyes. “How do I do that? How do I destroy something that’s… everywhere?” Clara flips to another page, a diagram of three circles overlapping: Witch, Wolf, Hallow. “The Hallow is not a creature,” she says. “It’s a realm. A consciousness. A hunger.” “So how do I kill it?” “You don’t kill it,” Clara says softly. “You unmake it.” My stomach twists. “What does that mean?”

I thought maybe if I didn’t pick it up, it would stop. But what if it was Daddy? I walked slowly toward it. My feet felt cold on the floor. I reached up and grabbed the receiver the way I’d seen Daddy do. It felt heavier than I expected. “Hello?” I whispered. A woman’s voice came through. “Hello, this is City Gate Mortuary calling to notify the family of Asher Wolfsbane and Valerie Darkrose that the individuals listed were found deceased after a car accident on the 22nd of May, two days ago.”

The Great Hall of the Blackridge fortress was transformed into a glittering cavern of gold sconces, dark velvet drapes, and the heavy, electric hum of high-ranking wolves. Music swirled through the air, but beneath the laughter and clinking crystal lay a razor-sharp tension. The feral sickness was spreading, and everyone knew it. Eira stood near the edge of the ballroom, her hand lightly gripping a stone pillar for support.

Candy moved first, kneeling by a flat stone slab half-submerged near the center of the bank. “It’s here,” she whispered. Jimmy helped lift the stone. Underneath, a staircase spiraled into darkness, lit by faint runes glowing blue along the walls. “Are we seriously going in there?” he asked. “We don’t have a choice,” I said, brushing past him. The Hollow was colder than I expected—not just physically, but spiritually. I felt it in my bones, in my soul. At the bottom was a round chamber, walls covered in etched lunar symbols. In the center stood a bowl of black water, still and deep.

My ghosts. And something else. Waiting. I padded through the half-fallen archway, growling low in my throat as I heard the soft scrape of claws on stone. Shadows peeled away from the far wall, revealing a wolf not quite whole. His fur was the color of rust, his eyes twin pits of ink. My uncle. Malric Blackmoor. “Silas,” he said, voice smooth as river silt. “You’ve bonded.” I shifted back, teeth clenched. “I didn’t come for congratulations.”

“The Hollow is near.” They crested a ridge, and beyond it, nestled in a glade shrouded in mist and snow, lay ancient ruins. Black stone pillars jutted from the earth like broken teeth. Vines coiled around archways inscribed with runes Lyra couldn’t read, but somehow felt. This was it. The Hollow. A place older than blood, older than Alpha lines, older even than the curse. Kaelen motioned her forward, but paused before crossing the threshold.