Bloodborne Executioner Set Novels & Stories

He wasn't an administrator, and he wasn't a ghost, he was a virus, a lethal piece of code that had followed her into the graveyard to fulfill the one contract he had never broken. "The Executioner... is... always... the... last... to... leave..." Silas’s voice was a low, distorted growl that made the ground beneath Verina’s feet vibrate with a subsonic frequency, he didn't move toward her father, he moved toward the central pillar of the Archive, where the Vance blood-oath was being used to authorize the global liquidation. He raised a spectral blade made of the same obsidian as the ring, a weapon forged from a decade of his own suffering and the "bad debt" he had collected from the Thorne b

The reinforced glass of his monitors spider-webbed under the sheer weight of the entity's presence. "A parasite sitting upon the throne of the creators," the High Executioner projected its voice, a chilling, harmonic chorus of absolute indifference that bypassed the ears and vibrated directly against the skull. "And a thief who stole our sacred imprint. Your existence is an insult to the cosmic order." The Executioner slowly raised a golden, gauntleted hand.

“He is not a legend. He is the warning.” In the center of the hall, the Executioner walked among the levitating bodies. With each step, the pressure in the air increased. “You have broken the pact,” his voice sounded, cold and articulated like the snap of a chain. “You have violated the balance to feed sick ambitions.” He stopped. The weapon on his arm pulsed. “The judgment has been made.” The bodies burst. Not in fire, not in sound. In silence. Blood ran down the walls like ink. Flesh dissolved like burned paper.

"When Zol captured you we had no other option but to change you. It was Steph, well it had to be Steph. Zol just triggered him. Look at these holes. It’s where Stephen bit you. It’s similar to Blaze but these mere holes soon turn into spots. But the bond mark by Blaze will be prominent as the sun. It’s like an arc carved on your skin. A permanent tattoo. When a Vampire turns you, the venom in your system blocks everything. It stops your heart. It stops your blood flow. Letting your body adjust to the change. Hence the answer to your question. You wont breathe anymore. Your heart wont beat anymore. You are reborn without a heartbeat. You... Are no more human". Zee held his hand. They were all

The silver-infused head of the hammer hums with a lethal, vibrating resonance that charges the surrounding air with ozone and purple dark energy, casting a long, ominous shadow across my face. He sneers down behind his closed visor, treating my imminent execution not as a tactical necessity, but as a satisfying trophy for Mercer's collection. My fingers twitch against the freezing stone, searching blindly for the hilt of a dagger, but my body refuses to respond to the frantic commands of my mind as the executioner's arms pull back to strike.

"They've actually identified the body." There was a long silence, so long I had to look behind me to be sure she was still there. "T—They have?" She stuttered. I nodded. "She's an Executioner." I drank from the cup, refilled and went to her. "H—How are they sure?" "All Executioners have a specific tattoo on their backs. It is one way to identify them." I held the glass to her. "Drink up." With slight hesitation, she took the glass and drank a little.

“You’re welcome. But think about it, Parker—someone knew poison wouldn’t work on me. They targeted you. Maybe they hoped I’d get blamed for your death.” He nods, face pale. “That’d be one hell of a setup.” “We don’t tell the others the details . We were ambushed and we are ok. Executioners are not allowed to interfere with destiny, but now i was just Eva” As we walk back through the woods, Parker rubs his shoulder, now clean and scar-free. “So… are we actually bound by blood now?” he asks with a crooked grin. “Yep,” I say, cracking a smile. “We are.”

I imagine it is what a human experiences at a carnival, the smells of crisp french-fries and cheese overlapping with cotton candy and funnel cakes. It’s an overload to the senses. Amongst the humans, there are a number of Secondaries as well. Their blood is less pungent and thinner in quality, diluted by their immortal DNA. One Secondary catches my eye as he approaches a booth selling blood bags. He takes his time appraising the merchandise, paying no mind to the elderly, human woman attempting to close up shop. Her smile wanes as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. He deliberates a moment longer before pointing to his selection. A thin, golden bracelet dangles from his wrist a

I lifted my head from the scarred wooden table of the Alpha King's Chamber, my hands trembling as I stared straight into the dark, lethal gaze of the man who held my destiny in his hands. "I never imagined my own blood would hire a rogue executioner to tear me to pieces in the boundary woods," I said, my voice raw, breaking against the heavy silence of the room. "They think I'm coming back with the strength of the Bennett Silverclaw Royal Pack behind me to destroy them."

My hands were cold, and I stared at the screen again. “It is not his empire,” I said. "This is his bloodline." Footsteps resounded outside the room. The door opened. Dino stood with an unreadable expression. "You found something," he said. I swung around and looked at him a-throbbing. "Yes," I replied. His eyes sharpened. "What did you find, Drina?" I turned back and looked at the screen, and then at the man whose name had plagued all corners of my life. "A ghost," I said. "And it belongs to your family."