Bloody Fangs Novels & Stories

“Tell me everything.” The guard swallowed, his expression grim. “It was a massacre. Bodies were left in the streets—torn apart, drained. Some were unrecognizable. Blood soaked the ground. Homes were set on fire. The air still reeks of death.” His voice wavered slightly before he added, “Survivors say it was the Crimson Fangs.” A gasp left my lips before I could stop it. Edward muttered a curse under his breath. The Crimson Fangs. They weren’t just vampires. They were butchers.

His sword flashed, and the vampire’s head rolled across the dirt. “I had that one,” I snapped, my blood still pumping. Rohan didn’t say a word. His eyes, sharp and dark, scanned the chaos around us. The Black Fang pack fought like beasts, tearing through vampires with no mercy. Their claws ripped through flesh, their silver blades slashed through the enemy, and bodies piled up fast. I grinned, amazed at how ruthless they were. These guys didn’t hold back. But Rohan’s face stayed grim, like he saw something I didn’t.

He was our senior, top fighter and rumored psychopath. His pale eyes landed directly on me for a second and a chill ran down my spine. He said with his deep voice “The initiation begins.” Silence filled the chamber. Elias continued calmly “Tonight, new blood proves its worth.” Students stepped forward one by one offering blood into silver bowls. This was a ritual, an ancient wolf ritual. Seeing it, my skin crawled and I had difficulty breathing. What the hell!! What's happening to me? My legs felt weak and my vision blurred but before I collapsed on the ground, Aiden’s hand stayed locked around my arm tightly.

He grabbed the knife from the man’s hand. Then he dragged the blade across his injured palm again without even flinching. Gasps spread through the small crowd that had gathered. “I told you,” Ethan said coldly, lowering his head so his face was level with theirs. “Do not lay a finger on my wife.” His fangs slid out. His eyes glowed like a wolf’s. The men screamed and bolted away in pure terror. They shoved past each other just to get as far away from him as possible. Only then did I notice the people around us staring.

she snapped, “I need to get back the shop before the boss has my head. Is this about the Bloody Barbies again?” Bloody Barbie was the nickname Maria gave to the murders ever since she’d gotten involved as a suspect. It was an apt name. Each crime scene that had been investigated was painted red with each victim’s blood, and in each one there would be a bloody doll left behind (though, not exactly a Barbie), no less than three feet away from the body.

Busy maids scurried like silent ants, their movements a flurry of whispers and avoided eye contact. The union of Valentin and Octavian Sanguines wasn't just a wedding; it was a custom laid upon a foundation built over a century ago. For generations, the firstborn male and female of each family had been bound by an ancient tradition – to marry. It was a pact made through history, a promise etched in blood and moonlight. The Valentins and the Octavians, rumored to be descended from the fabled "First Fangs," the very first vampires to walk the earth, held a lineage as old as time itself. There is no celebration in our families more important than today.

he hissed, his face twisted in a snarl. I smirked, a cold, calculated smile spreading across my face. "Yes, brother. Vampires. And I think we're closing in on them." With a final glance around the carnage-filled bar, we turned and walked away, leaving behind a trail of destruction. The bar's wooden sign creaked in the wind as we disappeared into the night, the words "The Bloody Fang" seeming to mock us as we vanished into the darkness. We paused for a moment, then Gracko produced a match and set the bar ablaze, the flames licking at the wooden walls as we walked away.

“URGGGGGG!!!!!!” Zachary banged his fists on the wall angrily as he screamed in frustration. His knuckles were cut open and blood oozed from them as soon as his fists collided with the hard rock. But his face showed no sign of pain or sadness. His eyes had turned completely blood-red while his knife-sharp fangs made deep cuts on his lips. A thin stream of blood was flowing down from the side of his lip as he glared at the four walls of this huge dungeon in which he was forcefully locked up ferociously.

No tale could scare the Texan girl, who had seen more horror movies, than the ones the tales told. She laughed at the myths. Until the myths started watching her. It all began with a dream. The sharp fangs in the dark, the glowing amber eyes in the trees, and hands so cold, that they burned. Then the whispers came. The feeling of being watched, and followed. The shadows that moved in places where no light touched, and her name, whispered in voices that wasn't quite human. Mary Ginger didn't know it yet, but her blood had begun to sing. She didn't know of the two oldest families in the town, but they knew about her.

My teeth caught my lower lip so hard that I tasted the blood on my tongue. “Please... I am no Demon” I breathed out as another tear slipped from my eyes. At this point, I didn't even know what she had in mind, I wondered if I was scared of dying by her hand. “Please? I have warned you many times, but you know, Elowen.” She paused, her blood red finger trailed my face, my breath caught in my chest as I shook my head. “I won't kill you,” she whispered as if reading my mind, she leaned too close that her smell of rot swirled into my nostrils as her breath fanned my cheek.