Carnage Mcu Novels & Stories

The metallic scent of blood filled the air, thick and heavy. The fight had mostly died down, but the aftermath was gruesome. More enemy bodies than my warriors lay on the ground. The three Alphas were moving through the field, checking for any signs of life among the fallen. “Some of them escaped,” Marcus growled, his body drenched in blood, his eyes still burning with fury. My eye’s darkened. “We’re going to their pack. I won’t spare a single one of them.” I turned sharply, my voice ringing with command. “Get the chariots ready!”

The heavy cable attached to the harpoon begins to retract violently, dragging a massive, heavily armored iron war-carriage right through our defensive gates. The iron-plated wheels grind against the stone floor with a screeching metallic wail, crushing the remains of the wooden barricades as if they were made of dry twigs. Sparks shower into the air from the friction, illuminating the grotesque, spiked hull of the war-carriage and the jagged runes carved into its side that channel raw, synthetic dark magic.

“Darlene Roberts, you're under arrest for the death of George Martins.” I look up with misty eyes only to see a bunch of cops, guns blazing and aimed at me. Funny enough, I don't even freeze neither do I panic. My attention goes back to my ex lover whose limp body is still warm with blood oozing from his forehead and chest. His shirt is torn and his big eyes are staring blankly at me. I've managed to help shut his mouth which was agape and his twisted lips. It seems he had put up one hell of a struggle before he gave up the ghost.

Clothes shredded into confetti, my bones snapped and elongated, tearing through muscle and skin to reform into a massive, nine-foot-tall Lycan. ​I hit the mud at the bottom of the gorge hard enough to leave a crater. ​I let out a deafening, chest-rattling roar and slammed straight into the frontline of the dead. ​The Vanguard crashed into the valley right behind me. It wasn't a battle. It was a total, unadulterated bloodbath.

I tasted copper in my mouth. I stood on top of the archway of the subway entrance. The stone was cold and gritty under my boots. Below me, the main avenue was crowded with white metal. The Purge Corps tanks ground over the rubble. Their treads emitted a high-pitched, metallic shriek—metal scraping against metal in grinding cycles. The vibration traveled up the archway, through my shins, and settled in my jaw. Thousands of Onyx Guard marched behind the machines. The firelight reflected off their black armor in staccato flashes.

The Alpha CEO, the man who had once commanded a global empire from a touch-screen, looked like a soldier who had forgotten how to stop fighting. "We’re off the main interstate," Marcus said from the driver’s seat, his voice low. "I’ve cycled the plates three times. We’re currently registered as a floral delivery van from Pennsylvania. If Valerius or the Russo King is tracking the VIN, they’re looking at a scrapyard in Newark right now." "Keep going," Rage commanded. "We don't stop until we hit the 'Dead Zone'." "Rage," Sabizina whispered, turning her gaze toward him. "The 'Dead Zone'? You never told me about a backup plan in the mountains."

Through the white curtain of the blizzard, a shadow of pure nightmare materialized. Marcus arrived. The midnight-black wolf demolished the forest. He tore through the thick pine drifts like a bullet of dark fury, flanked by fifty elite warriors of the Silver Ridge vanguard. Marcus didn't wait for his men to form a line. He lunged across the distance, his massive jaws snapping closed around the lead rogue’s neck mid-air, instantly crushing the beast's spine to splinters and flinging the lifeless corpse twenty yards into the ravine.

Till they both died. Rogue move on Freeland. It was obvious. No one thought after that, they would come back. Why didn't they come back during Marcus's tenure and now my tenure? They are wishing for death. They could have just stayed on their free land and died peacefully there instead of invading another pack and dying a painful death.

She only smiled wider. Mr. Yellow scrambled beside me, now wearing war goggles and dragging a mana rifle three times his size. “Okay. Okay. Scale of one to ‘we’re all going to die,’ how bad do you think this is?” “Ten,” I growled, charging another blast of storm magic. Carrotini, smudged with soot and sauce, wheeled up in a stolen soup pot like a war chariot. “Permission to trigger the cheese cannon?” “We have a cheese cannon?” I asked, dizzy from blood loss.

For almost dying. "Nice work," Marcus said. He was already wiping his blade clean. "Let's keep moving." We cleared four more buildings. Found two more Mimics and something called a Shade that tried to blind us with darkness before Whitney's team killed it from behind. By the time we finished the sweep, I'd earned another seventy-five credits total. One hundred credits for six hours of work that almost killed me twice. The transport ride back was quieter than usual. We'd lost one Hunter, a Stage Two named Caroline who'd gotten separated from her partner and cornered by three Mimics. They found her body in pieces.