Crimson Squad Novels & Stories

And Crimson was bleeding before the first battle even began. ....

Rig cursed and runs toward them. "Motherf*ckers!" Klyde squeezed the trigger again and the bullet flew in the air. Rig stomp on his hand, making Klyde let go of the gun. "Sh*ts over for you, Klyde McMarrow." And Collin led him back to the darkness by pounding his head on the ground. Knocking him out for the second time. "Looks like we're a team." Rig uttered to Collin. They tied Klyde on the post where the Hamiltons were earlier.

And on his left was the witch who became their ally to finally bring down the four packs. He stood in the middle strong and unbothered by the screams of everyone. He raised his right hand and with that, opened a huge door on the far right side of the dome. With heavy steps and weak bodies, four men went out of the huge door. As they made their entrance, everyone shouted louder and more aggressive. “KILL THEM!” “CUT THEIR HEADS OFF!” The four men walked slowly and finally made it to the center facing Brody. Brody smiled in arrogance as he spits on one of the men, the Alpha of the Crimson Crest pack, Connor.

Their figures were tall and sturdy, and they all held guns in their hands, along with a military spike or grenade hanging from their waists. At a glance, one could tell that the squad had gone through professional training. Some of the members were bloody mercenaries who had survived missions in war-torn countries. Each one of the soldiers possessed strong combat ability. The group of soldiers was known as the Kirin Squad, Kirin Summers’ ace firearms unit. They were the ones who gunned down Luc Mills’ fighters. The one who took out Hanley Foster and Denton Hansen on Pine River with a sniper rifle was also them. For Kirin, though the squad’s individual combat power was less than Black Reaper,

“Black Crimson has an extremely distinctive style. If you have someone else paint for him, it’s just going to be written off as a fake.” “No,” Hayden assured him. “It’s not.” When everyone merely frowned, confused, I groaned and rolled my eyes, willing him not to stick out his own neck or admit anything stupid. “No way,” I told him, slashing out a hand. “I’m not down with that plan.” But he didn’t have to say anything. Because Camille suddenly gasped. “Oh my God,” she murmured, gaping between me and Hayden with sudden realization. “Black Crimson isn’t just one person. You guys are like the Brothers Hildebrandt.” She spun to address my brother. “Aren’t you?”

Death draws me towards it like we have been attached with an unbreakable string. Maybe it's just a superpower in which I get the last chance to save the person in front of me or maybe it’s a curse. Particularly a Crimson curse, as I like to call it. Through the years the number of deaths I have seen is greater than my age. You would think that death doesn't affect me anymore. You are right to think that because that is what I had thought until 5 days ago.

"These two companies have been in each other's crosshairs for years. Franco Gil built his empire with precision, but Crimson Eagle was always nipping at his heels. Their rivalry was the stuff of legends, and it went deeper than business." I kept turning the pages; the next picture stopped my eyes. It was an indistinct photograph of a set of men; their features were obscured, but unmistakably hardened. Their tattooed arms and sharp gazes gave them away as no ordinary crew. Below it, in Logan's hand, was the name: Crimson Brotherhood. "Crimson Brotherhood?" I raised my eyes to his.

Her toes were painted light pink, the same shade as her dress, and she had a brown hair color. The second boy, OMG! He was tall like his companion, and he had a wide chest lean muscle thing going for him. The hair on his head was shining black, and he had grey eyes. He had Chace Crawford look going for him, only with the black hair difference. In fact, he looked like he was the one, if she didn’t know any better.

Not silver. Crimson. And they were smiling.

The candles went out. Author’s Note - The Crimson Veil began as a late-night idea about what might happen if logic met temptation in its purest, most dangerous form. Evelyn’s curiosity is my own: the need to understand what we fear, even when it leads us somewhere we can’t easily return from. This story mixes gothic atmosphere, mystery, and forbidden connection—a slow burn between intellect and instinct. Every chapter was written and refined by hand, inspired by old literature and the darker side of human emotion.