Can The Monster Speak Novels & Stories

“What is wrong with you?’ I froze. Hearing his words behind me made my blood grow cold. Griffith’s Pov. The hideous monster emerged out of the forest, ready to attack me. I stood in front of Seraphim, ready to defend him and give him my life, as I morphed into my wolf form. But what I heard surprised me instead. The black monster with sixteen eyes all over his body and four wings with the head of a snake. It was large and twenty feet above me roared furiously and used his large tail to kick me against the tree behind me and wrapped it around my body. I struggled furiously to free his grip on me when he said with a laughter of mockery. “You love him more than a friend, don’t you?!” I was shoc

He was not bothered but he still was curious as to why so many came at the same time, perhaps another monster attack or an orc group? However, because they could not speak, only Belphegor could understand them through the will of their souls, a strange way that beings that could not speak communicated with, similar to Telepathy but not really… "Oh…! You guys… Why? It is not really… necessary to do that!" said Belphegor. Chaos noticed that something was going on, as some of the monsters suddenly brought some flesh pulp, bones, and what seemed to be several rats they just killed.

My lips parted—but I didn’t speak. Some part of me already knew I would say yes. Because monsters ask. And sometimes, we want to answer.

I smiled slightly. “Right now, we know that the monsters are highly intelligent. They may not have the capacity to build complex tools or weapons, but they have shown signs of communication. In other words, they communicate through gestures and body language. And based on what we've seen so far, it seems like they use these signals to relay information to each other.” I turned around to the projection screen behind me. I turned around to the projection screen behind me. A number of images appeared. There were pictures of the monster children, the monsters themselves, and various sketches of the terrain where they appeared through different gates.

It's not impossible that Dylan will live his own life away from Fuschia and her child. “Dylan, how are things in the border region? I heard from Hayden that now, monsters can talk?” "You... won't ask how I'm doing first?" Dylan staring at her. “You look fine for me to worry about. So how is it?" “Yeah, like I told you last time. The monsters have evolved little by little. They can talk now. Although not with clear sentences, they can say the word. It wouldn't be surprised if suddenly they could act like humans and turn human beings into a corner.”

POV Liora The Ancient One did not sit. She moved around us instead, slow and unhurried, her bare feet making no sound against the stone. Her presence pressed in from all sides, like the air had thickened just for her. Mae sat stiff beside me, hands knotted in her lap. Rowan stayed near the door, shoulders tight, like a man braced for a strike he couldn’t dodge. “Tell me,” the Ancient One said calmly, “why mortals believe becoming a monster will save them.”

"Don't... don't say things like that." "What? Is the Whitmore heir shy?" he rumbled, his voice a low vibration that skipped down my spine. "Tell me, was that the first time a wolf has claimed your breath?" "In your dreams, Afolayan," I muttered, looking out the tinted window to hide the flush creeping down my neck.

“Good. At least you understand the language now.” He leaned closer, so close that the ash from his cigarette nearly brushed Noa’s collarbone. His eyes didn’t blink, didn’t soften. They devoured. “Monsters don’t love, remember? We devour. And I told you last night ” He crushed the cigarette out on the nightstand without breaking eye contact, hiss sharp, “I’ll consume every piece of you until nothing is left but me.”

He was bending down in front of me, his face only inches away from my own. “One tear, one lash” I yelled back, trying my best to keep my voice sounding strong. Even though all I wanted was to cry. “Again!” he roared, his hot breath bashed against my face as he screamed, “One tear, one lash” I screamed back loudly. “What are you?” he demanded, “A monster” “What are you?” “A monster!” “And what do monsters not do?” “Monsters don’t cry” I yelled as loud as I could. “And why don’t monsters cry? Tell me beast, what’s the rule?”

I hate how it doesn’t sound like a joke. Because that’s the problem with monsters— Sometimes they’re the only ones who see you clearly. And they use it to their advantage. I don't even know why I'm not screaming and crashing tf out right now.