Creepy Alastor Novels & Stories

“I didn’t imagine that I would see you again so soon.” Alpha unbuttoned the shirt and loosened it to flaunt his mark, King Casper’s face changed color for a split second, then he composed himself. “Me too. But Luna’s condition is critical. It’s my duty as a neighbor to visit the sick.” “Huh, Papa Teresa.” Rick scowled and huffed in anger; he wasn’t comfortable with that vampire’s scent in his house. Eric opened the door and showed him a sleeping Charlotte. “As you can see that little one is taking a rest, you can leave now.”

Something strange stirred beneath my skin—a prickling heat that spread like wildfire through my veins, My body went into spams, My vision blurred as I stumbled to my knees, it seemed as though the world was tilting dangerously around me, my bones cracking and reshaping with agonizing intensity. Fur sprouted from my skin, coarse and pearly white, my limbs contorting into a new form. And then I shocked myself, a raspy snarl tore from my throat, My fingers curled into claws, I could feel my senses sharpened, the world now painted in stark contrasts of light and shadow from the normal colours I was used to.

He engulfed me in a hug then spoke in a low almost indecipherable tone. “Your mummy is gone.” That was all he said. No words of comfort or anything. Just that. I run into the living room where the birthday was supposed to happen and I found her with scratch marks on her neck with blood pooling around her. It was gnarly and till today, my father, Demon Lord Altyre has vowed to avenge her death

“I know Aspen. Let’s keep the rogues back and pray Maliyah is strong enough to face him until Davina can help her. We are unable to help her up there.” Neither of us like being in this position but we don’t have a choice. These rogues seem a little off. I could swear some have different body parts that do not belong and it’s as if though the body is moving, there is no one in their mind. The eyes appear soulless. “These soulless creatures’ blood tastes awful,” gags Nero. “I want to know what in the world Alastor has been up to.”

A chill raced down his spine. The soft sunlight slipped through a half-closed window, catching the cold gleam of the man they called Italy’s nightmare—Alastor Merikh Drystan. The Sovereign. The number one killer. Only thirty, yet feared like a god. At twelve, he was already drawn to business—and blood. Passion lived in both. Drenched in shadows, Drystan reclined on a chair, legs crossed, a cigarette between his fingers. Smoke curled upward, but his eyes stayed fixed elsewhere—burning with calm, deadly intent.

“You know, I’m starting to miss the demon Alpha you once were. That guy? Would’ve ripped anyone to pieces who even tried to look at his paiónia.” Ronin let out a growl when he grabbed at Alastor and missed the slimy bastard by a hair. “If you’re offering, I’m happy to have pieces of you decorated all over the estate.” Alastor laughed, holding up his hands. “Easy. I come in peace. I just wanted to bring a concerning matter to your attention.”

I know the drill: no talking unless spoken to. Maxim walks over to me, and there’s a man with him. He’s a few inches taller than Maxim. While Maxim has an olive skin tone, this man is a bit paler. He’s as lean as Maxim, though slightly more muscular. He has blonde hair and greenish colored eyes. I’m immediately uncomfortable with the way he’s sizing me up, but I say nothing. His aura is filling the room, and I know he’s an Alpha, which makes me even more nervous. “Alayasia, say hello to Alpha Brian Montgomery.” I swallow the lump in my throat and hope that my voice won’t come out shaky. “Good afternoon, Alpha. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He grabs my hand and holds on a bit longer than nece

Only the voice that spoke didn't even really seem like her own—it was distorted to her, and unfamiliarly strong. "Ah, Sawyer. The big protector. How's our Alpha anyways?" Christopher asked with a snake-like sneer. "He'll kill you," she replied, avoiding his condescending question. At this, Christopher gave her the most sinister look she had ever seen. "I'd like to see him try."

Damon sighed, stepping out of the carriage with a nonchalant expression. Alfred followed quickly, drawing his gun, but there was no one in sight. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the coachman’s lifeless body on the ground. Blood poured from the jagged wound on his neck, as though the flesh had been torn apart violently. "Rogue werewolves," Alfred muttered just as one leaped from the woods. The creature’s head resembled a feral wolf, while the rest of its body was humanoid. It lunged at Damon, but Damon easily grabbed it by the neck and slammed it to the ground.

"Elara, get behind Silas! Now! The thing that was once Seraphina rose to its full height. It was seven feet of hunched, twitching muscle. Its eyes were no longer violet; they were four glowing, lidless slits of pulsating purple. It had two sets of jaws, dripping with a corrosive, black bile that hissed as it hit the marble. It let out a sound that wasn't a howl—it was a scream of a thousand dying souls. "It’s a Corrupted One," Silas whispered, his face pale as he reached my side. "She’s let the void take her. There’s no mind left, Elara. Just hunger." The monster looked at the Elder—its own father—and with one swift movement, it snapped its jaws shut around his head. There was a sickening cr