Broken Monsters Book Novels & Stories

"Good. Now, eat. You look fragile, and I prefer my prizes to be strong enough to hold their weight." As I walked toward the dining hall, I realized the "Monster" wasn't just paying for Leo's life. He was rebuilding mine into something he could control. I was Chapter 10 of a story I didn't want to be in, and the ending felt further away than ever.

An era where I stopped pretending to be a benevolent ruler and became what my biology required me to be. I walked to the balcony. I looked up at the Shattered Moon. The fragments hung there. They were tantalizing. They were broken. They were waiting for the gravity well that only she could provide. My vision blurred at the edges. Tunnel vision. The silver glow of the moon fragments became jagged streaks of white light. She thought she had won because she broke my machine. She thought she had escaped because she jumped into the dark. But she didn't understand. I wasn't just a scientist. I was the first monster. And monsters didn't need keys to open doors.

He had crafted a three-year game of breaking bones and breaking hearts -- and in the end, the one whose pride was shattered, whose dignity was ground to dust, was himself. "Miss Holloway, it's cold out here. Please, get in the car." Pemberton held the door open for me with quiet deference. I pulled my gaze away. I didn't spare the dark shape at the end of the street another glance. I ducked into the warm, luxurious cabin. The door shut with a heavy thud. The black motorcade rolled over the fresh snow and carried on toward the gleaming heart of the city, leaving behind forever the legless beggar sobbing in the drifts.

Atlas. The boys. Bastian and Bjorn. The people disappearing. The people dying. The world suddenly felt much larger than it had a few months ago. And much more dangerous. That night, after Mel went to bed, I opened my mother's journal again. The fire had burned low. The bakery sat quiet beneath us. And as I turned the next page, I couldn't shake the feeling that whatever answers I needed were waiting somewhere ahead. I just hoped I found them before whatever was hunting powerful bloodlines found me first.

They thrashed violently, their smoky bodies cracking the heavy ice apart in seconds. The burning sensation in my chest was going wild. It felt like a physical fire was trapping the air in my lungs, pulsing in perfect rhythm with the screeching of the monsters. I clutched Emily’s tattered leather journal tightly against my chest, backing up until my heels hit the stone stairs. I was entirely useless. A mortal girl trapped in a war of gods. "Adrian, my shield is cracking!" Lisa screamed. The purple dome around her was fracturing under the weight of the thrashing smoke monster.

I clenched my fists and forced my legs forward. Then the ground split open right in front of us. Black smoke exploded upward, twisting like a tornado. Out of it rose tall, bony creatures skinny, shadows with glowing red lines pulsing through them like veins. The air felt thick, hard to breathe, like their presence was squeezing my lungs. “Binders,” Ms. Joyce said, steady but sweating. “They’re tied to the book, they protect it.” One lunged straight at us. I didn’t even have time to move. Ms. Joyce slammed her staff into the earth, the ground erupted, throwing up a wall of jagged rock that smashed the creature into drifting black ash.

World-ending. The monster looked down at the bonded pair. Its eyes burning with fury. "If I cannot reclaim the bond..." The corruption intensified. The chamber began collapsing around them. "...then I will destroy it." The entire sanctuary shook. And deep beneath the ruins— Something enormous awakened.

I use those images because they fit to my own description and actions. Soooooooo with all excitements, buckle your seatbelt, and dive into Medusa's own very world........🤪 Welcome to the first book of BROKEN SERIES....😫 I love all of you guys😘 Xoxoxo Medusa💙🖤

The enormity of my actions and the resulting grief cast a shadow over my soul, and I swore that I would never again allow myself to love or be loved. As I ran, the memories of my mother's gentle touch and my sister's infectious laughter faded into the distance, replaced by the overwhelming guilt and shame that would come to define my existence. At that moment, I became Jason the Broken, a man forever haunted by the tragic consequences of a single, devastating night.

like something is sustaining it. Ignatius held back. "You've seen the truth, haven't you?" She glared at him. "What truth?" He dug into his coat and pulled out an old, weathered journal — the pages blackened at the edges. "In the oldest of Vosvak's books," he said, "it's said that the monsters weren't born. They were unsealed." Krishna's breath was caught. He went on, speaking low. "They were relic-bound. Curse-souls, scraps of ancient battles, locked beneath the earth by the first flame-callers. But something — or someone — breached the seal."