Crips Bloods Gang War Novels & Stories

It’s the protocol for the elite guards and The Guardians not to put any wolf blood’s life at risk. Our heads swivel to where Cillian and the guys are. All four men have discarded their bloody and tattered shirts. Blood drips from Cillian’s jaw, neck, arms, and all over his chest. The same goes for Andrei and Gunner. Bash isn’t immutable, his body bears some scratches as well. Wrestling with the rogues did a number on the four of them. Cillian and Beta Roland exchange vile words to each other. Cillian’s wolf eyes are blazing red and full of fury.

It's tiring but I needed to live up to my name. Today, had been chaotic to the core. My mafia gang got into a fight with an Italian mafia gang. It was really bloody, and I was almost shot twice. I guess, her perfectly carved eyebrows would crease with worry if I came back home looking all bloody and shit. She could barely bear it the last time she saw me a bloody mess.

He had been so arrogant and self righteous in his way of living, that anyone could wander in and out and never know they had stumbled quite literally into the wolfs den. I step out of the car and smell deeply with my nose. The faint trace of something familiar catches my attention and I remove my sunglasses inhaling further. "Brynor?" I turn to see my two companions exiting the car. Ivan and Gregor. All three of us are dressed in expensive suits. To the innocent bystander, we look like business men in our forties but at over six hundred years old, we are dangerous. Unlike measly humans who grow frail. Us older, more pure blood shifters are the opposite, getting stronger with age.

But within a few days, a groundbreaking piece of news replaced the previous ones, dominating the front pages and igniting the entire werewolf community—The Dark Night Pack had allied with The Red Flame Pack to declare war on The Blue Blood Pack. And the once mythical and nearly extinct Blue Blood Pack responded to the declaration of war. Panic spread among people. Yet, some media outlets referred to the upcoming battle as the 'War of Colors.' There were even entertainment channels and underground gambling establishments setting up bets, leading the masses to speculate on which team, Red, Blue, or Black, would emerge as the ultimate winner. Not surprisingly, the Black team, represented by Har

Chapter 63 Bruises Don’t Lie ~ Katherine Scar and I go way down. It was after Maddy left Snow Hill that everything became a little too rough for me. The street gang was becoming more ferocious, and the community police couldn't do anything about it. I wanted protection after that little thing with my drink when I almost got raped and Scar was the only option I had. I knew about him from the boys who came to the dinner every day to eat. He apparently was the leader of Snow Hills and he had many people who could make things work.

We had our kind sprout throughout the city; we were worshipped, but then, one after the other, they died, leaving me behind. Roaming. Alone. I stood at the corner of the battlefield, invisible to the eyes of the wolf warriors; they fought in their wolf forms; they had put on fire, and it spread wide into the forest, slowly burning deep into the verse land. Blood painted the field. Lifeless bodies, both in wolf and human form were at every corner of the field. The weak ones who had given up on the fight fled for their lives. I have nothing to do with this treacherous, absurd activity; let them end their lives and let their blood be on their heads; let it be painted on their palms and in their

“Well, I do believe you’ve struck gold today. A. I’m a history buff and B. I’m from the Blood Moon pack, so I have firsthand knowledge of the war.” The Red River War was the attack on our pack five years ago. We lost our leadership and nearly twenty-five percent of pack members. The war changed everything for us all. It caused Xander and I to take up our positions as Alpha and Beta of the Blood Moon pack. We had been able to make it stronger and rebuild, but it still pained us significantly. There were certain events in life that people could not get past. That was one of those events for many of our people, Xander and me included.

I asked. "In the year 1800, war broke out between the two notorious gangs in New York—the Blood Brothers, and the Blood Kings. This gruesome war lasted for one year. Lord Van Himmer was the leader of the Blood Brothers mafia and led the crew to victory against the Blood Kings." Wendall stopped reading and looked up at me. His eyes widened with shock. "Continue," I motioned.

The camera panned across a war-torn street, where piles of bodies lay in alleys, discarded like trash. "We have never seen violence of this magnitude," Rachel’s voice, usually calm and authoritative, cracked slightly. The rawness of the moment seeped through her professional composure. "What began as a localized conflict between the SaberFang and Grizzlies gangs quickly spiraled into an all-out war. But shockingly, other gangs from outside Hay Port—Direwolf, Raven’s Order, Bonecoil Cobra, and BloodFin—joined the fray, each of them leaving their mark of devastation."

His fist caught Garrick in the ribs. "Fight! Fight!" Someone yelled. Within seconds, more warriors joined in. Bloodfang against Crimson Fang. Old grudges boiling over. "This is what happens when we trust outsiders!" "Your pack is fucking weak!" "At least we don't abandon our allies!" Fists flew. Blood splattered on the ground. Men who had fought side by side yesterday were trying to kill each other today. The camp exploded into chaos. "Enough!" Lucian's voice cut through the noise like a blade. But the fighting didn't stop.