Blackstone House Of Horror Novels & Stories

Kai stood a little apart, tattooed arms folded, watching everything with that intense, brooding stare. They spent the next two hours inside the museum, taking photos of old artifacts, scribbling notes about colonial history, and pretending to be serious students. But the real excitement started when they stepped outside and spotted it. Just beyond the museum grounds, half-hidden by overgrown trees, stood an enormous decaying mansion. Blackthorn Manor. The locals had mentioned it briefly during their tour, an abandoned estate from the 1800s, rumored to be haunted. Its dark spires pierced the sky, windows like empty eyes, ivy crawling up the stone walls like veins.

I took the drink, let out a dramatic sigh, and stared at the bubbles like they had answers. If it weren't for him, I'd probably be lounging on my apartment couch, single, rich, and sipping overpriced cocktails—blissfully unaware of any werewolf drama. But here I was, heading into a house full of power plays and polite threats. I took a long sip, already bracing myself. So this is love, huh? -- Half an hour later, we pulled up to the Black family's place. The house itself was mostly white, sleek and modern, but softened by sculptures, ivy-covered archways, and a garden that looked like it had been designed by someone who'd grown up reading fairy tales. It gave off serious Alice in Wonderland

Hell. The foyer alone was bigger than my entire apartment building. Black marble floors shot through with silver veins, a chandelier the size of a car made of actual antlers and a million flickering crystals, twin staircases curving up like the jaws of some ancient beast. The air was thick, old money, roaring fire, pine, leather, and that dark, spiced Alpha scent that lived between my legs. It hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled and I wonder why I could smell him so badly. Aradia spun in a circle, arms wide. “Behold, Blackthorne Lodge, where the Wi-Fi is fast and the dick is faster!”

I jumped out of bed to see what was wrong and there it was, before me. There was blood on our bed, real blood and I was bleeding from my nose as well. I reached out to the blood on the bed with my finger and touched it. " This is not from me," she said, referring to the breaking of her hymen. This blood was different, it was much and even thicker. " Your nose," she pointed at my nose. " It's not your business" I fired back at her. She has no right to ask me about that. I touched the blood again, this time, I reacted to it, it felt like a shock, then my heart began to hurt really bad.

But they took my silence as approval. Running on adrenaline, they launched a full-scale search. Soon enough, they found the four members of the Bennett family hiding in a cellar. Without hesitating, they stormed in and beat them savagely—humiliating them, trampling them. But the Bennett family had dealt with mid-level ghosts before and had bought a lot of in-game items over the years. In the chaos, they actually managed to break free and escape. But they were all seriously injured. My older brother had lost an arm.

“The Archive is only the beginning. The real inheritance is hidden beneath Blackstone Manor. Only the true heir can enter.” My brows knitted together. “Blackstone Manor?” Alfred slowly closed his eyes. “So… he chose that place.” David looked confused. “I thought it had burned down years ago.” Alfred shook his head. “No.” “It disappeared.” Before anyone could ask another question— The entire building shook violently. BOOM! Dust poured from the ceiling. The security monitor flickered. Leon had reached the main gate. The massive stone entrance on the screen slowly began to unlock. “No…” Alfred whispered.

I could feel it in my bones as we rode closer to the ancient castle. The stone colors in the mountain side changed from a deep brown to a black void. The grass grew darker until it was black in color as we approached the outer castlegrounds. "You're still sure you want to do this?" Gideon asked me, as we approached. I looked at him, and nodded. I was on the seemingly endless search for answers, and I was going to get them. As we got closer to the walls of the outer garden, I could see vines that looked like they were dripping with black ink. I reached out to touch one, only to get my hand slapped down by Gideon. "Don't touch those! You'll be asleep for a century, easily." He told me, realizi

“You wanna play god, Blackstone? Fine. But don’t talk down to the devil that made you.” A beat of silence passed. Then, slowly, he pulled the door shut again. I took that as apology enough. I started the car once more, and we sped into the underbelly of the city. *** The safehouse was beneath a condemned building in the East District, the kind of place even rats avoided. Blackstone’s people had retrofitted it years ago—concrete walls laced with silver dust, hidden panels, emergency routes. From the outside, it looked like just another husk in the ruin belt.

"You're somewhat ahead of schedule, but of course you're welcome. Shall we proceed to the library with the others?" "No." His pale blue eyes, cold as ice in winter, meet mine with blatant disdain. "What we have to discuss should be here." I feel Jonathan tense beside me, his protective instincts kicking in. I feel his wolf rising to the surface through our bond, ready to protect me from harm. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're referring to," I say warily. "Oh, don't you?" Blackstone steps further into the hall, and I notice his men move to fill in the doorways behind him, blocking our exits. "Tell me, Lady Whitmore, what do you know of the hunters?"