Dark Graphic Novels Novels & Stories

Cassien led me through corridors that seemed to stretch on forever, his hand warm and solid in mine as we navigated the maze of the Black Rose base. The walls were concrete, painted a dark grey that made everything feel cold and industrial, with overhead lights casting harsh shadows that cut across the floor in sharp lines. We passed doors that were closed, some with small windows that showed nothing but darkness beyond, and I wondered what happened behind them.

Please note: This a dark romance story, it features dark content. Alissia POV I sit at my desk, staring blankly at the blinking cursor on my screen. It mocks me, as if it knows I have no idea where to start with my latest attempt. Dark romance. The genre I never thought I’d touch. But after bombing miserably in everything else—comedy, fantasy, sci-fi, even horror—I figured I’d give it a shot. How hard could it be to blend the raw, twisted emotions of a toxic relationship with an edge of danger? Apparently, harder than I thought.

It feels like I live in a prison where I can never be happy or see the light beyond the darkness around me. I never had friends or a girlfriend because my father doesn't let anyone get close to me. Sometimes I feel a lot of pain in my body and this always happens during the full moon, so I take some horrible medicine that my father gives me. He says it's for my good, because if I don't take it I'll get sick, I know it's not that, but I don't have my grandfather to tell me what's wrong with me! These nightmares that don't leave me alone and are always the same turn me into a horrible wolf where I'm in a war of leadership, that's it and the same dreams or nightmares every day.

"That's the idea." He placed the book on the attic floor and drew a wide circle around it with chalk. Then, with a small blade, he made a tiny cut on his palm, letting a single drop of blood fall onto the center of the circle. He began to chant again-his voice strong and steady, echoing across the attic walls. The book began to vibrate slightly. Its pages fluttered on their own, and then dark smoke rose from the ink. The characters began to shift slowly, twisting into new shapes.

[Francis Davis, 1990-2023] No final words of wisdom and no heartfelt farewells. Just the dates marking the beginning and end of their stories, with a tiny dash in between to represent everything in between. That tiny dash was their whole world. They fell hard for each other, fought fiercely, and in the end, they went down together.

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

I clearly have one, a dark one, one that’s filled with darkness and pain, with no one to be there for me, to bring light to my darkness. I went back toward my car before driving off toward my office, deciding that I should start with work, get my dark black coffee, a coffee that matches my soul, that’s the better option for someone like me. I got busy with my paperwork, you’d be confused with how much paper work I have to do, every dollar in my bank has to be explained, to keep everything legal, hiding all my illegal work, to keep everything clean, the police would love to have some dirt on me, but I’m cautious with what I do, I would no end up in jail, not now or ever.

Luckily during my training, I got well-versed in every genre. Actually, dark romance is a guilty pleasure of mine. Not that I'll ever admit that. I've read many, and I know how to make her books as dark as they can be. She must be new to writing it because she completely discarded the truly dark romance plot and went to the morally gray one. Just because I like dark romance doesn't mean I want to do this stuff to her.

I hissed. "Yeah. Don't ever think about it, Victor." John warned. I slowly moved my left hand to my waist and pulled out my favorite black dagger from the holster. It was a marvelous gift from the Russian mafia boss Dimitri. It had an enormous eagle carving all over its arm. I loved it more than my guns because it was as venomous as me. It slit my enemies' throats in one swing and showered me with their blood. I stood beside the journalist and leaned against the wall. He was trembling badly, his breathing was harsh and painful because he knew what I was going to do.

Dark of Night Copyright 2019 Emily Goodwin Chapter One “What do you see when you look at this one?” The doctor holds up a card, showcasing an ink splotch that’s twisted and creepy, with eyes that follow you no matter where you go. I look at it, heart hammering away inside my chest. The mess of ink on the white paper reminds me of the monster that lurks in Nana and Papa’s basement, the one that tried to get Abby and Scott to go downstairs with it.