Calling All The Monsters Lyrics Novels & Stories

I created a monster to ruin her. Now he’s ruining me. **** Helena spent her nights writing savage Alphas who dominated, punished, and shattered their women. One car crash later, she died, and woke up trapped in the body of Azalea, the pure 18-year-old princess she had written to be broken. Her fictional story became real as King Valdman Wolverton came for her. Scarred by years of torture, this ruthless werewolf king slaughtered Azalea’s entire family in front of her eyes and dragged her away in chains. He doesn’t want a quick death. He wants her to bleed for every sin her father committed; slowly, brutally, and completely. Helena feels every second of it: every painful lash and every cr

My voice came out sharp, almost bitter, but trembling beneath the surface. “You know the reason.” I turned to leave, my heels scraping against the pavement, but his hand shot out, wrapping around mine, pulling me back. “What reason?” His voice was low, urgent, like a man begging not to be left behind. His grip tightened around me. “Lyra… tell me. What reason?” I leaned closer, my lips near his ear, my whisper sharp enough to wound. “You’re a monster.” His entire body went rigid. “Human and monsters,” I breathed, my chest heaving, “shouldn’t be together.”

Jasmine "We all are monsters," Rei replied. "It’s how we live another day and how we can live with ourselves when we finally sleep. You’re not unaccustomed to monsters. You’ve lived with one for most of your life.” Reinaldo laid his arm on the top of the booth behind me. “I’ve been thinking about last night.” Warmth filled my cheeks as I released the stem of my glass. “Me too.” “Now that we’ve been formally introduced, I’d like to get to know you better.”

"You need to station sentries at this part of the realm. The veil weakens the more every day. If the beasts could get through, other monsters and beasts at the other side are soon to discover that the veil is weakening and will sneak in too. And speaking of the veil getting weaker, we need to find out who or what is weakening it, Darius. We can’t keep hunting these creatures forever and having more casualties at our side." Darius curiously stared at the lone wolf. "Are you by chance saying that you suspect someone is behind it? Sorcerers are extinct, they were all wiped out until sorcery was a thing of the past! Who would dare to threaten the peace we had fought to keep for three centuries?

My voice cracked on the last word, and I hated it, hated how much of myself I'd just handed over the phone line without meaning to. Lena went quiet for a moment. "Then don't break him trying to keep him. You hear me?" I didn't answer. I didn't trust myself to. "Hunter." "I hear you," I said, and hung up before she could hear anything else crack loose. I stood there a long moment, chest heaving slow against the cold, before I turned back toward the house. Atlas was already at the glass door, arms crossed, watching me through his own reflection like he'd heard every word even from here.

I could feel their inquisitive gazes burning into me as I got absorbed into my thoughts, contemplating. Without hesitation, I took the shell and stabbed it into my wrist, biting my lips to refrain from crying out in pain. My flesh split open and caused a trickle of blood to flow down my arm. I placed my hand out in front of me and muttered, "Beneath the earth, buried deep Where the fire rages and monsters sleep I call to me the trickster of three Arise, you shall no longer sleep."

Her eyes meet mine one last time, and there is something unspoken there—something heavy with expectation. “You chose to become the monster,” she says quietly. “Now learn what it means to wield it.” And just like that, the path forward is no longer theoretical. It has a destination. And a name. The Butcher. And somewhere deep inside me, something ancient and unfamiliar stirs—like it’s been waiting for this war far longer than I have. We pack in quiet motion. Mae moves through Ilythra’s home like she’s afraid of touching things too hard, like the walls might whisper secrets if she brushes them wrong. I’m stuffing clothes into my bag—things that already feel like remnants of another life—when I

Us. Elias’ voice was tight, a whisper strangled with horror. “Gods. They’re—” “Us,” I finished for him, claws tightening, body coiled to strike. “Different loops. Different failures.” The air thickened. The echoes of ourselves stepped forward, blades raised, claws bared. No monsters this time. We were the monsters. And the battle began.

There's this unruly thought that they're all going to die that night. The monster lets out a series of eerie laughter. Then it threw Luntian on the ground, the old woman landed on the ground with a loud thump. “Weak…” The monster turned to Calleb, and when it noticed Accashia, it let out a scream. “Accashia… Accashia,Accashia,Accashia… come,come,come! Come to me…”