Damien Thorn Hellpark Novels & Stories

These two vile, power-mad monsters had disposed of the real Luna, then used me - some hapless pawn - as a stand-in to infiltrate the pack and bring down their sworn enemies from within. "You're both out of your goddamn minds if you think I'll help destroy anyone," I spat, refusing to show them an ounce of the bone-deep terror spiraling through me. "I don't give a fuck about your little psychotic pack politics." Damien's hand shot out, calloused fingers closing around my throat in a bruising grip as he hauled me against his rock-solid form. I choked on a scream of surprise, scrabbling futilely against his implacable strength.

It was a smell that meant home to me, but for Damian, as he stood in the center of the floor with the Hamptons salt still drying on his skin, it looked like a confession. ​We didn't turn on the overhead lights. The weak morning sun filtered through the high, grimy windows, casting long, skeletal shadows across the floorboards. Damian hadn't said a word since we crossed the bridge. He looked haunted, the weight of the journals in his jacket pocket pulling at his shoulders. ​I grabbed a crowbar from the tool chest near the back. It was cold and heavy in my hand, a primitive weapon against the polished, digital lies of the Thorne empire.

He possessed the same electric blue eyes, but his aura was far darker and bloodthirsty. It was Damien White. "Hello, Sister," Damien said, looking at Liora with a chilling, crooked smile. In his hand, he held a detonator. "And hello, Mavric Thorne. Thank you for keeping my sister warm for me." Mavric lunged at Damien, but Damien moved with speed even greater than Liora's. He kicked Mavric squarely in the chest, sending him flying backward through the glass wall which shattered upon impact. "Mav!" Liora screamed.

Inside was a weathered leather portfolio. Damien grabbed it, flipping through the yellowed pages with a frantic intensity. There were dental records, fingerprints, and a series of photographs taken twenty years ago. The photos showed two men who looked identical, but one had a small, distinct scar on his inner wrist. A scar my father, the man currently sitting in the Harrington mansion, did not have. This is it, Damien breathed. This proves the man running this hotel isn't Howard Harrington. He’s a mercenary named Elias Thorne.

“I’m dead serious, babe. Slept at his hotel last night. And guess what? He asked me to be his while his dick was inside me. How was I supposed to say no?” “NAHHH, THAT’S THE CRAZIEST SHIT I EVER HEARD! I LOVE THIS MAN ALREADY!” I could hear her flailing, probably tripping over her bed, biting her lip like she does when we dish about hot guys. “Damian Thorne just shattered every damn allegation. Boy’s a keeper!” “You can say that again,” I murmured, my eyes flicking to him. He caught me staring, scrunched his face suspiciously, like What are you schemin’, Sheriff?

It wouldn’t always be an illusion of what she secretly wanted to see here, currently, she was happy, so she was seeing things that made her happy, but should someone cross her or she gets upset, she will see Hell for what it really is. “Home, sweet home,” I said as we approached my Victorian-era style home. Abby’s face was somewhat surprised, “It’s…beautiful…” She said and I chuckled at her. “Come on, I want to show you inside.” * * Damien had his hand on my lower back as we walked up to the all-black house. I dreaded what I would find once inside his home. More of the Hell that Damien knew and loved with shackles and more burning ember to walk on. I took one last look at the sky above me an

I run after them. Outside I'm confronted with the angry pair. They won't even look at me. "Arlo, Dante. I ..." I don't get the chance to finish "HE KILLED MARA, HE TOOK HELLY FROM ME, YOU HEARD THE ORACLE. HELLY IS GONE" Arlo screams at me, it breaks my heart. The one person I'd neve think to turn on me. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. You know he has a hold of me. The lights, the music and the blood" Dante raises a hand to me and puts the other on his brothers shoulder. "Don't bother" They leave me alone outside.

_______________________ A/N: Happy New month readers, ^Hellbound!^ Is now open for voting please start now with your power stones until we finally upgrade to use golden tickets. Thank you so much ❤️❤️❤️!

I stated, and Thorne nodded. "She's new to her powers. She's also full of light. So naturally, the dark would want her for itself. Keep her grounded. And in the meantime, keep that thing far away from her." Thorne said, pointing to the blue orb, "it's a soul anchor for the beast you're fighting against." "What beast? Damien?" I asked, and he nodded, "it holds a part of Damien's fragmented essence. Perhaps he buried it in that massacre site to draw from the energy all those deaths provided and it truly surprises me that you found it. "

Damian Thorn is a 35 year old, his 6.2 feet tall handsome guy. He is a Greek god that makes girls drool, his the definition of an ideal guy yet behind this perfect image of wealth lies a psychotic maniac. His feared by most due to horrid tales about his shady business dealings, some say he has no soul and those who know him speak not of him due to fear of him dealing with them. His family knows his a serial killer, they've tried different kinds of help from different institutions to try and offer him help his mother always wonders what she did wrong during his upbringing for him to end up this way.