Clawd Monster High Novels & Stories

Clara took a step and continued forward. The three of us rushed forward until another stepped forward. Clara lifted her hand, palm up before she shoved her hand forward. A black shield taller than us and spreading out ten feet wide pushed out from her hand. It slammed against the mud monster ran into it. She pulled her arm back and thrust it forward again. The darkness pressed forward until the monster fell on it’s back. Clara stepped forward and lifted her hand up above her head. I looked up to her hand before looking at the humanoid again. As she brought her hand down until her palm was facing the floor. She shoved it down as the humanoid’s head fell into it’s shoulders. She grunted and to

They had such an excellent bond based on their likes and dislikes. The real Monster had not yet finished, but had just started. She would awaken Luther's true monster. She would destroy him and his family. She would make Noelle's life an absolute hell. This is the second part of Monster. *********

I imparted without changing my tone. I walked around one of her crew in the kitchen. Marla stuck her leg out and pushed me at the same time. The other girls quickly backed out of the small area. My side hit the counter and it smarted though there was no damage. When I glanced up, her fist was coming at my face. I slipped the punch and plowed my fist into her stomach. She gasped for air and bent slightly inward which was my chance to add an uppercut that hit her jaw perfectly.

“This one used to be a pianist. Played with his whole heart. Now? He just kills.” The creature lunged. Noa shoved Rook out of the way and took the hit head-on. They crashed to the floor. The thing snarled, clawed fingers ripping across Noa’s chest. Noa twisted, shoved his elbow into its throat, but it didn’t stop. Didn’t even blink. Rook screamed. Noa kicked hard and rolled free just as the monster slammed its fist down where his head had been. The floor cracked. “Fuck fuck” Noa scrambled to his feet. “Rook, run!”

"Why are you chasing me? Just let me go. I want to be done. I want the hurting to stop." "The hurting never stops, Aurelia Viremont. It molts…and grows teeth." The creature circled me, its body flowing like ink. "I have been trapped under these mines for a thousand years. I was waiting for a soul that tasted just like yours." "Like mine? I'm nothing. I'm a low-blood omega. Everyone told me that since the day I was born. I’m a mistake."

"Like jasmine and the first rain in Owerri. It was the only memory the clinic couldn't extract from my brain." He kissed me then—not the desperate, frantic kiss we’d shared during the breach, but something slow, deep, and devastatingly tender. It tasted of salt and the terrifying promise of a future that didn't involve running. For the first time in five years, the "Monster" wasn't fighting. He was coming home.

Its movement rattles the tunnel, icicles falling and covering my face and purple lips. After minutes or hours of racing through the tunnel, I find the exit just as the monster tries to grab my legs. I jump out skillfully into the night, and I hear the monster howling and beating its chest in rage. I fight for breath, my mouth parched as I watch the monster with hawk nose, large icy-blue eyes, fangs that must have sucked countless blood, claws that must have severed people into pieces, a long maw, and an ice-covered robe that's probably hiding its desecrated body. Its horns are about seventy inches tall.

It was the size of a shovel. USERPER, the voice roared. He swung. The boy didn't move. He didn't dodge. He raised his hand. He caught the claw. A five-year-old boy caught the strike of a twelve-foot monster. The ground beneath the boy’s feet cracked. A shockwave of dust blew outward. But the boy didn't buckle. He smiled. "Mine," the boy said. He squeezed. The Ancient roared in pain. Smoke rose from his hand where the boy touched him. The purple mist was eating the charcoal flesh.

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

He looked like he was in agony. But I was staring at the fresh scar on the webbing of his right hand, my entire body turning ice cold. That scar was identical to the one on the hand holding the woman's waist in the profile picture of the anonymous poster I had just seen. If I remembered correctly, that scar appeared three months ago. I was two months pregnant then, and we were walking in the deep forest. A feral Rogue suddenly rushed out. Kael didn't think twice before shielding me, fighting the beast with his bare hands.