Crocotta Supernatural Novels & Stories

he looks around at the floor in disgust, kicking the nearest body laying beside him as I notice the deceased individuals cut oozes with a black tar-like residue rather than a flow of crimson blood, suddenly piquing my curiosity as I question where I’d seen this once before… “They were supposed to be,” the mysterious figure fumes; her frail hand waving in front of her as a purple glow radiates from within the centre of her palm, magnificently illuminating the scene around us. Hold up. That’s magic. She’s a witch? I watch in horror; silenced as the bodies of our attackers begin to morph, the bones cracking within the corpses as their figures contort unnaturally. The woman's palm shuts closed a

But the last paragraph makes Sera's breath catch: I'm scared, Aunt Chen. I think I've uncovered something bigger than I realized. The corruption goes deeper than just our pack. Elder Marcus has been selling information to a hunter organization called the Crimson Order. They're not like other hunters—they don't just kill rogues. They want to eliminate ALL supernatural beings. And Marcus has been helping them. I've told Sera about some of it. She thinks I should go to the alpha. But I'm worried Dante won't believe me without concrete proof. So I'm collecting evidence. Thomas is helping me hide it.

Her right breast is gone; she was chained and she is crying in pain. “Give me that!” She screamed but the scary beast appeared again from above. This time he has big, black wings that are shaped like bat wings and he is holding a metal stick that is bigger than the normal human arm. “No please… no!” Begged by the naked woman who is trying to grab my blanket.

A place once sacred, Now it reeked of damp wood, rusted chains, and a history that refused to die. “This is where it ends,” Sarah said quietly, stepping through the ruined doorway. “No,” John corrected. “This is where it began.” Sarah froze. The walls were covered with markings and ancient glyphs, only the marked could read. John’s eyes scanned the symbols. One stood out. A blood crescent. Below it, a name was carved in deep, Lucian Crowe his father. “Why is his name here?” he asked. Sarah moved closer. Her fingers traced the name. “Because he didn’t die fighting the monsters. He created them.”

He thought, barely able to contain his excitement. Looking over his shoulder, he gazed down the shimmering Rose Line and couldn't help but smile. There atop the main altar, propped open on a gilded book stand, sat an enormous leather-bound Bible. Up in the balcony, Sister Rosaria was shaking. Moments ago, she had been about to flee and carry out her orders, when the man Below suddenly removed his Cloak. When she saw his alabaster-white flesh, she was overcome with a horrified bewilderment. His broad, pale back soaked with blood-red slashes. Even from here she could see the wounds were fresh. She also saw the bloody Cilice around his thigh, the wound beneath it dripping. Sister Rosaria couldn

The young demon is determined to search for the fucking Wraith who destroyed their time together—he was so close to making the angel like him (of course this is just his assumption. “Where the fuck—oh, I know that stench.” The familiar smell of sulfur and earth was not strange to Crocell—and amidst the sea of people, he can smell the distinct odor of death, not the one who delivers souls but death—the smell of a wraith desperate to find place in heaven. “Geez, you look like you need a bath or two.”

The crimes Rocco had committed in Southbury revealed just how inhuman he truly was. Fortunately, Aria was well-versed in dealing with people steeped in such malice. She toyed with her amethyst pendant and chuckled. "It sounds impressive—that someone told you using others' blood could bring you fortune and prolong your life. "But didn't they also tell you? The more fortune you steal, the more spirits will cling to you." Rocco paused at that, then laughed scornfully. "Spirits? They're nothing but lowly creatures. If they had any strength, they'd have fought back while they were still alive. What can a bunch of nobodies possibly do to me?"

The man I’m looking at isn’t ordinary and what happens next proves me right. Luca snaps his finger, the sound echoing through the silence. The air ignites with an eerie crimson glow, bringing to light the moving shadows hidden in the darkness. Their features are unmistakably demonic with their piercing laughter more evident. A familiar piece of document materializes into his palm, its edges cackling in flames. My focus remains on the scene unfolding before me as I’m left speechless. Luca offers my drunk self a quill. My drunk self,oblivious to the danger and barely hanging on to consciousness, misses the quill’s strange nature. Its twisted feathers writhe like living snakes.

He looked more like a prehistoric predator than a man. "This is none of your concern, Montgomery," the leader stammered, trying to regain his footing. "It was none of my concern," Lucas whispered, his voice vibrating with a lethal, subsonic frequency. "Until you touched what is mine. Now, leave this place. Or I will tear the souls from your bodies and leave your carcasses for the mountain crows." "But—" Lucas didn't wait for the protest. He blurred into motion. The next second, one of the drifters was flying through the air, his body crashing through a stack of crates with a sound of breaking bone.

Using most of her strength, she took a closer look at Calleb’s soul and noticed that something was messing with his head and his heart. She gasped when she saw small wriggly creatures eating away his soul. Maggots. The same Maggots feasting on the rotting flesh of the monster that attacked them before. And they’re not just maggots that came from flies and insects and critters. But maggots that are conjured and twisted by a Necromancer. A witch of darkness. Ever so silent, Luntian began to chant a cleaning spell. Calling for the spirit of the fox. A great white fox appeared, and using its claws — it vanished the maggots from Calleb’s soul. But it was only a temporary solution.