Dark Fantasy Names Novels & Stories

And besides that, my legs were starting to cramp up. “Hurry it along, demon. A little less talk and a lot more action. You were saying you have a name to give me?” He wagged his finger at me. “Hasn’t anybody ever taught you to respect your elders, Luna?” I shook the picture with both hands. “And don’t you understand I’m running out of time? I have to get Lydia! The name. Give me the name!” He closed his eyes. When he opened them, they shone with a color I had never seen before. I caught my breath.

Enough of the long story,my name is Natasha Gabriel, I'm 18 and very pretty with a body to die for. Back to the situation on ground,I dragged the only belonging I have managed to get although my 18 years on earth. I dragged them through the lone road leading to my work place,a restaurant where I worked as a waitress. I just hope Miss Lauretta let me pass the night.Today is gonna be a long night.... . .

“Sorry, place doesn’t open till nine.” “I’m not here to party. I need a job,” I say. “My name is Morgana Hamilton, and I used to work at the Dark Brotherhood.” Her eyes gleam at the mention of the Dark Brotherhood. She scans me from top to bottom, her eyes plainly judgmental. “Im sorry sweetie but you don’t exactly look the type to work for Dante.” I swallow the sharp retort that books on the tip of my tongue at how she speaks Alpha Dante’s name with such blatant disrespect.

I shoved him down hard. The bullet ripped through me instead, and I collapsed on him. His eyes went wide, real terror flickering there for the first time. "Natalie…" Gunfire answered back. Bernard's crew was not having it. The world started to spin, pain crashing over me like a wave. Francis' voice was calling my name, fading into the distance. Then, everything went black. ...

~~Louisiana~~ I had heard the stories about the Northern Alphas. The are called the Monsters of the North. The Twin Destroyers. The Beasts of Duskfang. The Beast of Chaos. Names spoken like curses, whispered in fear. They were ruthless. Untamed. Feared beyond reason. No one dared walk their path without tasting their wrath—because once they set their eyes on you, there was no escape. They were not just alphas. They were nightmares given flesh.

They were among many other small groups he created, giving them each a task and allowing them to choose names. Darcy was the one who suggested they should call themselves The Phantoms because that was what she called him. No one had ever seen his face. Not even her. He had come flying, snatching her up, making her believe she was caught while escaping but he had helped her escape instead. A werewolf.

Death is his middle name when messed with......... Vladimir Albert Darkclaw, a name that sent shivers down the spines of even the bravest souls. His piercing blue eyes and chiseled features seemed chiseled from the very darkness itself. As the Alpha of the Feral Fury Pack and Lord Marino Jenkins of the underworld Mafia, he ruled with an iron fist, his dominance unchallenged. At the mention of his name even the devil himself gives way for him.

How weird. “Anyways, do you have a name? I can't keep calling you shadow walker.That's bit too risky” “No” His answer is quick and plain.I sigh, thinking of a name to give him. “Xander?” I suggest. Before I could ask if he liked the name, a menacing growl from outside stole my attention. I looked down the window and saw three wolves on Zion and others on Drax. Zion shifts but Drax remains fighting in his human form.

How she ended up in this remote place, and if she was also supernatural. “You didn't tell me your name. I'm Robbert Dragnon, beta werewolf of the NightHowl pack and soon-to-be alpha. Well, not anymore now that I'm here,” Robert asked with a short laugh, turning to her. She stared into his eyes for a moment, then said softly, “My name is Edith, and I'm the Immortal of Death and Darkness.”

He takes a puff on his cigar and leans forward toward my face. Thus, I am forced to close my eyes so they are not burned by the smoke he has spit in my face. He remains silent and takes another sip of brandy, rattling the single ice cube shaped with an ice pick in his crystal glass out of habit. "Santo..." I start to say, but I fall silent as soon as I meet his dark eyes. How ironic to have given him such a name. He's the worst of them all, and he's named Saint.