Dark Eater Novels & Stories

I could see a pair of red eyes, howling all over. I asked in fear Dekker- " What is that?" Dekker looked up and his face turned pale. He gulped as he stood frozen at his spot. He began to sweat as he clear his throat. I asked him once more-" Dekker? Will you tell me what is going on?" Dekker said in a panic voice-" W-we should leave" I asked -" Why? What do you look so pale? What is that thing?" Dekker lowered his tone and replied-" Gambler of Ghosts. The dark Prince and his men. He is a terror who feeds on the souls mercilessly."

The ambiance is not that different from Lambs but considering that this is the diner for werewolves, it may seem gloomy and dark. “The steak here is great.” I looked around when he said that, I groaned when I saw what they’re eating. “That is raw meat,” I stated. He then takes a glance at the werewolves eating. “For us, that is rare.” Alarick waved his hand and a male with an apron went to our table. “A rare steak and a cooked one,” he said, emphasizing the word cooked. The cook glanced at me and nodded before he went back to his station.

The usual businessman/shark… Superbly clever, insidiously calculating, and terrifyingly dangerous. Fear might’ve protected her, but Lara hadn’t learned to fear him until it was far too late. But she was scared now, scared enough to please even the most merciless sadist. Not scared for herself... but for her father. Lara came to a halt in front of the door and briefly closed her eyes. “Crawl,” she whispered to herself. “That’s what he wants. And if he gets what he wants, maybe destroying Dad would seem less appealing.” Lara knocked and braced herself. It was opened almost immediately by a young man.

She licked her chapped lips, she had been drained of blood in those seconds that her heart was finally pumping new ones and circulating it through her. Her legs felt like jellies and she almost crawled to the bed and sat down on it, she placed her hand on her chest one more time and closed her eyes, God, I’m alive, I am really alive, she thought as she covered her mouth with her hand as tears blurred her vision. Her father was the scariest men she had ever seen and she hated seeing him angry but this man, the man she just saw? She would gladly watch her father angry a million times than have another scene with that monster. It was as if his eyes were an empty vacuum, no, bottomless pit of he

Or maybe it was the doing of the hidden being in the shadows. In his groggy state, Nathaniel saw the flash of the pointed canines and the watery gleeful sparkle of evil eyes. He could feel its hunger, projected from the black mind. He could almost see its jaws dripping, yearning to lap up the gore like a starving feline. 'You...won't let me die...' Nathaniel thought, his eyes closing but he found no peace. 'You...are taunting...' A soft laugh met him as darkness fell, plunging him into dreams that Dali couldn't have painted better.

My name is Elora and I reside at the Blue Mountain Packhouse. I have a slim figure, long curly blonde hair which I usually wear up in a bun so it is out of my face. My eyes are a deep blue which I love. I am not a normal girl though. You see I am a shewolf, my rank at the packhouse is an omega. I don’t know my parents because they passed away when I was just a tiny baby, so I don’t have any memories of them. The only thing I have is a necklace locket from my mother. I have never taken it off because it makes me feel close to her spirit.

Tears streamed down her face, and she couldn’t contain her sobs, at the sight of Thor lying bloodied on the floor. “I won’t hurt Nick,” he hissed. “He’s the brother of the devil, and I’m sure my actions will please both him and his brother.” “Drago doesn’t care about you,” he whispered menacingly in her ear, “You will be my sacrifice to him, you will see,” Madchen stilled herself for a moment.What the hell was he talking about, the devil. He had lost his everloving mind, she ascertained, and she was to be the target of Jason’s maniacal fantasies.

Damonq was on the stairs, and Darkness swung around to face him. Elina forced herself to look at the ancient warrior. He was the opposite of everything Darkness was. Roped muscles, scars, waist-length salt-and-pepper hair. He looked rugged. Tough. Scary. He had tattoos drifting up his neck so he looked a little like a modern-day outlaw biker. Darkness, despite his head being blown off repeatedly, always managed to restore his flawless, model looks. At first glance, one would be terrified of Damonq, not Darkness, and that would be a very big mistake.

His gaze was emotionless, unwavering, as Ryker writhed in pain on the ground. “Never dare to try your luck again,” Dread said coldly, his voice like a death sentence. He aimed his hand at Ryker, and in an instant, Ryker’s entire rotting form was consumed by flames. “Because in every life, Blood Petal belongs to Dread Lord,” Dread added, his eyes glowing fiercely as Ryker’s body burned away into nothing.

The black glass dagger descended, a streak of obsidian darkness in the witch-light of the Ossuary. Damon Carter struck with the precision of a butcher and the hatred of a brother scorned. The blade bit deep into the base of Ryan’s skull, a killing blow meant to sever the spine and extinguish the flicker of life sustaining the monstrous transformation.