Conjured Novels & Stories

“Ye know all bout the hunger part, I’m guessin.” His guts twisted as he thought of Eddie . . . and Jones. He squirmed. It was probably his imagination, but his clothes seemed tighter than usual, his legs and arms sticking out several inches from the cuffs and sleeves. “And?” Hartley dangled the charm from its strap. “I’m guessin’ this here is an old conjure for what they used to call a ‘Wihtikow’, roughly translated as Wendigo. Some dialects even call it Ithaqua . . . ”

Does he really just want to take revenge? My lips parted for a second when I saw him tie me up using his belt. His eyes were glaring at me as he mouthed, “I told you, I’m your owner not my mother fucking cousin,” he said, obviously angered and started to unbutton his shirt. He threw somewhere on the ground while his eyes were still staring at me. I gulped and motioned to back away again when he immediately held the loose tie and stopped me. I shut my eyes tightly while feeling his hand touching me on my thigh. I screamed when I felt him hold me on my waist so we can feel each other better. He put my leg onto his shoulder as he carried me.

" I try to concentrate and see a Blaze figure in my head. I try to find out what Blaze sees right now...where his whereabouts...and what is how condition. I closed my eyes and concentrate harder...what I See .. is the same as what Blaze see .... And Blaze is seeing.. 'What the F.....!'

And I bet they weren't here only for mother's box, but for my head as well,an infecting smile smudged all over my lips. 'Let's give them a piece of us,shall we' I said psychotically to my inner thought. "Enidia cerizontai illusinia" I say,my eyes still shut. I made an energy illusion of myself, multiple illusions, a little spell I learnt from way back. "Estille xendealic" I repeated breathlessly, it came out as a low whisper, I could feel energy disengaging from me. I probably used up a lot..."Conjurania....qunixun" I didn't stop,I could feel blood spilling down my nose... This wasn't good,but I had to continue,I couldn't exactly fight whoever that bitch had sent,probably a whole coven,I nee

both Vlora and Conrard muttered together. "Gryla, can you be of any help?" Vlora shouted when she was holding her brother. He was breathing deeply, his body full of sweat. "Is it full moon night?" Conrard asked and Gryla nodded. She then put a spell as she made a circle around them with a finger. They were actually there but Pidge could not see them as they were invisible. "What is..." Vlora was being interrupted by Gryla who quickly hushed her up.

"Anji, end it. Secure the anchor." Anji looked down, his obsidian eyes burning with an artificial fever. He surged forward, pushing the friction until both their breaths stopped in unison. A massive, echoing jolt rocked his spine, and he felt his energy surge into Arga—the Essence acting as a catalyst for complete, psychological tethering. Arga stiffened, a silent, hollowed-out cry escaping his chest, and then, as quickly as it had begun, he sagged against the desk.

Hope spends the next two hours in the library with Connor, surrounded by ancient texts that smell like decay and forgotten knowledge. "Listen to this," Connor says, reading from a leather-bound grimoire. "The Devourer of Worlds—entity classification: Elder Hunger. Requires thirty blood sacrifices arranged in a pentagram formation. Upon summoning, consumes all life within a hundred-mile radius before returning to its realm." "Cheerful. What else?"

he says to himself as he beholds the magnificent beast. Connor buttons his jacket elegantly and walks slowly towards the event spot. His skin tingles as he advances, and his heart beats too forcefully inside his chest. The moon shines brightly now, and a fresh and light scent, similar to what is felt in the air on a sunny and clear day with a touch of aromatic herbs like mint and rosemary, drags him like an invisible yet powerful force. What is that? "Mate," Sorem chirps inside his mind. Connor stops abruptly and shakes his head. His beast is right at the surface, seeking a way to emerge.

She adjusted her glasses and scooted her chair closer, her curiosity palpable. “What does it say?” Liza asked, her voice imbued with a mix of scholarly interest and trepidation. Kelda exhaled, scanning the runes again to be certain of her translation. “It’s not just any bond, Liza—it’s a convergence. Vivi and Lexa aren't just tethered to each other. They’re conduits for something... vast. Something ancient.” She paused, her brow furrowing as she translated the broken text. “The runes speak of light and shadow intertwined—an energy that grows as they grow closer. But...”

“You’re not taking her! We’ve beaten you all before!” The Conclave’s forms flickered, and the loom pulsed, weaving a vision that tore at their souls: the nexus shattered, its stars dust, their bonds erased, Jessica’s hollowness consuming her, her companions’ screams fading into silence. The vision wasn’t a possibility—it was a certainty, unless she acted. The fracture flared, and the twist came: the Conclave wasn’t just the weavers—it was the nexus’s own doubt, its fear of its own heart, given form to destroy her.