Chimera Ants Novels & Stories

It was a masterpiece of Spatial Guerrilla Warfare. ​But the Inquisitors had a counter-move. They began to release Neural-Pheromones—a silver mist that smelled of ozone and ancient, forgotten memories. As the mist touched the Tundra-wolves, their "Sequence-Logic" began to fray. They didn't see the black-carbon monsters; they saw their lost families, their fallen Sovereigns, and the sterile comfort of the original Mother-Hive labs.

Just Human… I took a second to admire the creature. I hadn’t really noticed it before due to running for my life, but the Chimera was a lion type creature with the head of a dragon protruding from its back. The dragon head was more like a decoy, something to distract you. It stayed looming above, scouting the area. The lion itself was the main brains and controlled what the dragon head did. It was black and gold, with a hint of silver strewn through its fur.

They’d seen thousands of beautiful women throughout their lifetimes, and still, none were enough to peak their interests. A petite redhead female knelt before them. She really wasn’t much. She looked like she had just a little too much time in the sun. Her skin was bronzed, and the patches on her cheeks proved she worked too many long days. “Masters.” She bowed her head. “I am Aurora of the Chimarian Tribe.” Chimeras were interesting creatures, but monstrous. After the discovery of the tribe, the immortals banded together to make them outcasts. They were abominations to the closed minded, but miracles to those that sought chaos. The Triad were neither.

The final fight is begun, the only Varniant type against the Herrschers. “Cornelio, is it possible for this Varniant to using more than one Fluxter ability?” ask Samuel. “I’m not sure … this path still get damage even no wound, but the skin is tougher than common Landcaster.” Said Cornelio. “Sounds like Chimera path, huh?” said Samuel. “…! That’s make sense.” Said Cornelio. “Is there any record of Chimera path?” ask the commander. The operator searching the data. “Empty, Sir.” Said the operator.

“Uh, she doesn’t want that kind of farm; she’s after the Pogonomyrmex badius.” “The what now?” “Harvester ants.”“You… what dafuq is she doing with harvester ants?” “Look, at least I talked her down from the bulldogs, and I only got away with it because Australia is too far, but you best believe she’s gonna have one of us out there before long looking for that shit; that’s when you really have to worry. Those things can drop a man in less than half an hour. With the Floridian Harvester, you might stand a chance if you get stung once. I did good right.”“What does she want with the ants, Mancini?”

Winter smirks with assurance, “Not quite the enormous and fearsome winged creature with an impressive breath of ceaseless fire...” “...it’s something quite peculiar and bound to astonish you even more. It’s a creature born of one of its parents being a Dragon and the other, another specie.” She seems to relish in pride of whatever this anonymous creature might be with the way she’s having me on my toes with anticipation. “It’s a Chimera.”

I was frozen in place, trapped in the memories of that terrible nightmare and the fact that the thing before my eyes was not a hallucination. The limbs were all very, very long. So long that the arms, with enormous hands, touched the ground. The chimera was standing several meters away from us, but even so I could see the seams that held the limbs forcibly together. In fact, the thing left small pieces behind every time it moved the slightest, and I could only imagine that they were parts of the poor flesh that formed the "body." What could explain that terrible smell?

"They are the Gravekeepers. Chimera Subject 09. A perfect fusion of deep-sea gigantism and lupine aggression." As if on cue, the shadows behind the pillars rippled. It wasn't a movement of light, but a displacement of mass. Two creatures emerged. They were nightmares sculpted from wet muscle and pale, translucent scales. Standing four meters tall, they had the hunched, powerful build of werewolves, but their heads were devoid of eyes—just rows of sensory pits like a shark, and a mouth that unhinged to reveal rows of serrated, needle-like teeth. Their skin was wet, dripping with a viscous blue slime that sizzled when it hit the floor.

Making up his mind, he wore a sleeveless tunic, and slipped a pouch around his waist, a pouch which contained a short pen knife. He knew trouble would come, he could feel it. He let himself out of the tent where Azayi still waited to lead him to the banquet. The closer they trotted, the louder the music sounded. He saw them as they pranced, ten beautiful-looking female Centaurs, dancing with long white hair and a wreath of pure white roses on their heads. They covered their chests with only black nets and so they jiggled every time they danced. From their belly buttons down, their horse bodies were lithe and powerful. But what got Chimera's mouth hanging open was that they were pure white g

“The angels use many squirmers.” “For food?” Adlartok squinted and curled her upper lip while visualizing an angel chewing worms. She had heard of squirmers, but until passing through the swamp where Tulugaak nearly died, and they met Jamison, she had never seen crawlers other than a dead, giant scale worm floating in the summer ice melts. The little giant had an ugly mullet-like head, and a beautiful spun gold fleece enclosing a rear body that looked like human teeth. But, of course, no one would eat such a creature. “I don’t think so,” Rawl said. “I believe the cherubs farm squirmers just as we do.”