Cute Gore Novels & Stories

I said, and gently pushed her aside and opened the door then walked into the room, with Caleb. The whole room was splashed with blood, floor, walls and ceiling. Three dead bodies— we can't even call them bodies anymore, fingers detached from hands, eyes removed, tongues cut, stomach cut open, their hearts taken out of their bodies and crushed, and what not!! The urge to vomit was nearly my throat, the scene looks so horrible and disgusting to look at. It looks like animals tore their limbs to limbs, but the truth is this is done by those three mysterious jerks!!

Yet, he couldn't heal because it was silver. He kept on screaming until he couldn't scream anymore. The pain was excruciating. The army of Werewolves returned to their human form. Everyone could feel the sting. Everyone except Calhoun. Calhoun had a satisfying smirk on his face. "That was..." George murmured. "Beautiful?" Calhoun completed. "Satisfying?" "Gore!" George corrected. "Exactly. Gore is beautiful, satisfying even." Calhoun said. "Party is over. Take his carcass to his kingdom as a warning gift. Tell them I said, "If they don't want to meet with the same fate as their king, I will want peace"."

There weren’t any eucalyptus trees around me, but when my eyes fell over a gore scene, it froze my body from taking a step ahead! A few meters away from me, that old pervert was lying numb on the ground, completely soaked in a pool of blood! His eyes were partially open and darted towards the dark horizon, with a thin line of blood running down his mouth. His shirt was torn open and I didn’t mistake to see, a big chunk of flesh from the left portion of his pot belly was missing as if a wild animal had torn it off his body!

And then I see them. A wall. Not brick, not wood…..flesh. Holes cut into the drywall at waist height, maybe twenty of them, each one framed by bare thighs, asses pushed out like an offering. Every shape, every color….pale as milk, dark as espresso, some marked with ink, others smooth as silk. A few of them shift, hips rolling slow, like they can feel me looking. My mouth goes dry. “Holy shit,” I breathe. Cory claps me on the back, hard enough to jolt me forward. “Told you you’d like it.”

He snapped at me, "Em had good intentions. Why are you giving her a hard time?" As I sank deeper into depression, Elijah and Emily visited me with some vodka to "apologize". Not only that, but they coaxed me to take ten shots on the pretext of cheering me up. When I developed a splitting headache, I asked Emily to buy some over-the-counter pain relievers. Little did I know that she'd make me take a dangerous dose of Ibuprofen mixed with alcohol. The bleeding in my stomach was what killed me. She looked pitifully remorseful at the hospital. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't even tell what I shouldn't have given her…"

She leaned closer to the screen, watching the final moment — Cerebus covering the girl with his body, his blood staining the floor. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “But for how long?”

I heard the clicking of camera shutters, but no one called the ambulance. My blood drained dry. My body became cold. Finally, Yvette Skye was no more. I died all alone at the corner of the street. No one cared. My corpse was not a pretty sight. My eyes were wide, unseeing, and there was a large hole in my stomach. My legs were twisted together. One of my arms was flung by the side of the road. My legs were useless now. I was ugly. No wonder the little girl cried. Floating in the air, I stared at my mutilated corpse.

I whispered softly, the words a chilling promise of the horrors to come. With deliberate precision, I donned my gloves, the cool leather a stark contrast to the fiery intensity burning within me. I looked down at him once more, and that was when I saw it: the flicker of desperation in his eyes. But it wouldn’t save him. Nothing would. Author POV: *Gore* Screams pierced the air, echoing in Ace's ears as the only sound amidst the chaos. It was a twisted symphony that, strangely, brought him an inexplicable sense of pleasure.

I already planned it and I know it will work. “But if you don’t find it… You’re dead” I added. I stood up and pulled him up and made him look at me, even though he didn't want to. I stabbed him on his left leg and I heard him scream in pain, that makes me smile, because it is music to my ear. I saw Mang Berto shaking his head. I don’t know if he is already pitied, but I don’t care because I am just starting to enjoy every piece of Ross. I lean to him and smell him like a hungry wolf. Smelling on him like food, like how he smell me before he rape me and then I break his right arm. I heard the breaking bones. As well as his scream that makes me more excited about the game that I prepare.

Gore painted the floor with thick, splattered strokes. The third raised a silver blade, but I severed his leg and used it to knock two more onto the far table. Metal bent, flesh split, and screams were drowned out by snarls and snapping bones. I couldn’t stop even as they fled. Every time they moved, I was already there, ripping arms from sockets, hearts from chests, spraying the walls with blood and brain matter, my body moving as if it were designed for this.