Danse Macabre Novels & Stories

The air is thick with the scent of cheap liquor, roasted meat, and the musky pheromones of a hundred different bloodlines letting off steam before the winter drills. Damon keeps his arm locked securely around my waist, guiding me through the shifting, sweaty crowd as bodies part instinctively before his demonic aura. He pulls me toward the center of the dance floor, his large frame shielding me from the chaotic movement of the crowd as the music drops into a low beat that seems to vibrate directly through the soles of my shoes.

She had shaved, grabbed a nice long scented bath, shampooed her hair, blew out, flat iron, and curled it with a curling iron to give a loose wave. She had a sheer white shimmering dress that clung to her body to wear for part of the night. She had gotten it from the dancers who would be dancing tonight. There would be a moment when everyone was finished saying a few words, be it goodbyes or heartfelt memories, the pyres were lit, the drums would come on, and the dancers would dance. They call it the dance with the spirits as they usher their fallen ones over to their ancestors. However, the dance with spirit to the drumbeat is very erotic and seductive.

The mist twirled on the air, forming into a doodle of a demon and the other of a long droopy hat— a characteristic of a peculiar creature. “Demon and a witch,” Belle noted what she saw. “Mr. Dante was cursed by a demon’s curse that now falls on me,” whispered Belle. “And a curse is the speciality of a witch.” “Smart girl,” he praised that caused her heart to widen. Belle gulp, not wanting to dwell on how she felt delighted being praised by the demon prince.

Lucas was just staring at him blankly until he made his way out. Zera entered the room and collected the ashes of the contract. “Shall I call on the next?” she asks, and Lucas just nodded, feeling sleepy. Zera went outside his office, carrying the ashes and disposed them in the huge Tree of Death in their lounge area. Domus Malum, or the “House of Evil” is nothing like a creepy place that most movies make as the devil’s nest. Lucas made it look like an ordinary office with minimalist designs, it has a wall of shelves for books, a nice lounge area for the guests and a huge piano beside the Tree of Death, where the contracts of their clients serve as the soil and the tree being fertilized by t

Unease crept through her chest instantly. Someone was staring at her. Her heartbeat slowed painfully. Slowly— Elena turned around. And froze. A woman stood in the corner of the room. Ghostly pale. Long black hair hanging around a sunken face. Large hollow eyes stared directly at Elena without blinking. Her white dress was soaked heavily in blood. And lodged deep inside her stomach— Was a knife. Blood dripped slowly onto the floor beneath her. Elena’s breathing stopped. The woman took one slow step forward.

"I’m Victoria Dean. I apologize for meeting you all under these circumstances. “But as a dancer, I want to show you that the most powerful performances don’t need elaborate embellishments. This dance has a real name. It’s called, the Unyielding Rose in the Rain.” I slipped off my coat, revealing a tattered red gown beneath it, and the white bandage wrapped around my ankle. "A rose blooming in the rain, who could ever bend its beauty?" Rising onto the tips of my toes, I leaped into the rain, the night sky embracing me like a vast, open stage.

Lila's pov “This is Caleb A.K.A black vortex” Damon said, nodding toward the figure in the corner. “He works with me as my side kick” Immediately, I heard the name "Black Vortex," and my breath hitched.The name wasn’t just familiar; it was infamous. Black Vortex was a shadow in the underground world, a digital phantom who could infiltrate the most secure systems without leaving a trace. He also had the ability to manipulate shadows, bending them to his will, creating illusions that could disorient or terrify his enemies. This power made him a master of stealth, able to move unseen and strike from the darkness.

Minx had been slow to calm, but when she had, a sheepish look had stolen across her features, and she'd exclaimed, “Bit rash, huh?” “Mm, mayhap, a teeny, tiny, bit,” I'd teased, as I'd held up my thumb and forefinger—a minute space separating the two pads. ~~ Time passed, and the alcohol flowed, and I was out on the dance floor again, dancing with a man who was drop-dead gorgeous, when suddenly he released me and my arm was grabbed from behind, and swinging me around until I was facing him, Nathan snarled, “He had his goddamn hands all over you.”

Dust particles danced in the stagnant air, adding to the sense of foreboding that hung heavy in the atmosphere. My gaze fell upon a long table, covered with a tattered cloth. Curiosity mingled with fear as I hesitantly approached it. As I pulled back the worn fabric, a chilling sight unveiled before me. The surface of the table was littered with an assortment of macabre tools. Rusty knives, saws, and other instruments of torment glinted ominously under the feeble light.

Damon sighed . They were now inside the school it was all dark and lonely and looked pretty terrifying .Damon turned on the lights and they both went inside the Old haunted Dancing hall holding hands nervously .As they stepped inside the door closed itself with a band .Cynthia gasped with fear .She then placed the ouija board on the floor and sat with Damon .She lighted the candle . " Are you here ?" she asked nervously .The pallachette moved towards yes . " Will you hurt us ?" Cynthia asked even though she knew this was the question to avoid while using the ouija board .The pallachette moved to no and Cynthia left out a breath of relief