Dark Crimson Novels & Stories

Maybe he had a plan, maybe he was the only one who could truly tame the beast inside me. After thirteen days, we finally arrived at Crimson Dusk, a pack of blood magic, just as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the entire sky in shades of scarlet and violet. The gates at the borders loomed before us, forged from dark iron and etched with runes that pulsed faintly in the twilight. As we crossed into the pack’s territory, a chill ran through me. Crimson Dusk was massive, larger than any pack I had ever seen. The buildings rose tall and close, constructed from blackened stone and obsidian glass. But what struck me most wasn’t the architecture, it was the people.

He returned a minute later, holding a small, crystal decanter filled with a liquid that swirled with deep, luminescent crimson—like captured memory and blood. The Crimson Reminiscence. A rare, potent elixir that compelled absolute truth from a vampire for a short time. It was not used lightly. It stripped away all pretense, all defense. Without a word, he uncorked it and drank. His eyes closed for a moment, and when they opened, they held a raw, vulnerable intensity I had never seen.

With a cruel smile, Tennebris pressed against the hole, hitting and pulling his hand, as if he wanted to unclog the bottom of the well that he opened to hell. Before the sin of Wrath rose fully, before the meteors in the heavens reached the atmosphere of earth, the darkness coming from the kingdoms of Wrath rose over us. It was nothing like the night. It was pure ink. A black dye that nothing in the world was able to contain. And those shadows rose against us, enveloping us with that characteristic and terrible odor of Wrath. Even if Miguel was holding my hand, I couldn't see him and know if he was really there. The darkness covered everything and disappeared so quickly that the smell almost

I ask, "What are the colors?" "Gold for Fae/Fairies. Brown for Lycan/Werewolf. Blue for Merpeople. Green for Witches and Warlocks. Red for Vampires. Purple for Dragons. Black for Zombies/ Ghouls/ Goblins/Demons. White for Angels. Yellow for Humans and Pink for Nephilims/Giants." Whoa, I've only read about things like this!

I request. Iditan is the first to respond to my request, sending her magic my way. A connection forms between Iditan and I as a thin line stretches from her tongue of fire and connects with mine, and then the others follow after her till we have a glowing circle. Our senses heighten as one when we all connect and we feel the darkness before like a huge curtain blocking our way. I meld their powers together with great efforts, forming a golden-yellow light and strike at darkness. The darkness refuses to budge as the light hits it and goes off, and we begin to fall again, becoming weaker.

Inside the crystal sphere a violent perpetual storm of crimson plasma and shadowy clouds of liquid void churned, obscuring whatever ancient terror slept in its depths. Dominic walked to the very edge of the stone precipice overlooking the chasm, his heavy combat boots crunching against the metallic dust. His bare shoulders were taut with corded muscle, his dark meteor-steel runic tattoos pulsing with liquid-black solar plasma that crackled like anti-magic lightning across his skin. His grey eyes had completely dissolved into twin pools of molten gold, burning with an unbridled, apex predator’s dominance that refused to bow to the ancient cosmic atmosphere.

For the past centuries, Soles from either sides hadn't found the Vermilion yet. This Vermilion was the one power that could stop the other. This was the reason as to why the world had still been experiencing two opposing forces; light and dark, good and evil. Because no one had succeeded in finding the power source Vermilion yet. This was the reason why the Vermilion was so important to be found and be kept, especially by the Ibawnons, so as to maintain the balance of the world. For if the Malignobons would have it, nothing but darkness and chaos would surely be spread to the whole world.

We didn't let the darkness win. END OF VOLUME ONE

Chapter 2 – Crimson Eyes Rain lashed against Diana’s face as she stood frozen before the iron gates. The crimson eyes remained fixed on her from the darkness beyond the forest, unblinking and impossibly bright. They were not the golden eyes of a Northern wolf, nor the silver eyes of a moon-blessed pack. They burned like embers buried beneath ash. Something ancient. Something predatory. As if someone was watching. Another growl rumbled through the storm, deeper this time, vibrating through the ground beneath her feet.

ILANA. The Blood Moon Festival came five days too early. On the third evening, the moon bathed its eerie, crimson glow over the Nightshade Pack. This was an event rarely experienced and considered by the pack to be a sign from the Moon Goddess, hastening the fate of two destined mates. The pack was in an uproar of joyful frenzy. The whole of the pack square hummed with excitement, as though even the air vibrated in anticipation. I faltered at the door to Rana's small cabin and brushed off invisible lint from the pale blue dress that Rana had lent me for tonight. "Rana, are you sure about this?" I asked, trying to keep the nerves from edging my voice.