Dark Healer Novels & Stories

“Look.” With not a trace of the cut left on her finger, Tessa’s eyes met his, and she realized then what he was. She always assumed they were a fairytale parents told their children. “You’re a White Lighter, aren’t you?” Rafik shook her words away as he rubbed his thumb over her finger. As much as his touch calmed Tessa, hers burned him inside. Every part of him he ignored while she was missing was suddenly alive. “Not in this world. Here, I am just a Healer, but one day when we are free of all this, I will shine.”

To seek it. Gary was an ancient healer with the knowledge and experience of an entire line of healers. He was also a hunter with that same lineage pouring their experiences of battle into him. He was fast and he moved through the teen’s body, repairing each massive problem Darkness began. Aneurisms, strokes, lungs filling with fluid, Darkness tried them all, while the healer rushed to repair or stop the damage. Damonq was quiet, looking for a pattern in the attacks on Amelia. There always was a pattern. Always. No one could help it, and an ancient monster such as Darkness least of all.

She dug her stiletto heels into the ground and pulled backward. The Dark Pool stretched like taffy, some getting pulled into the headlights of the truck. It started to burn, dissolving out of one of Shamira's hands. Shamira looked at her hand, wondering how badly -- All she saw were little red marks, but no cuts and no bleeding. 'How is that possible?' Then it hit her. This was a creature of pure darkness . . . she healed faster the darker it got. Because it was made up of lots of tiny little mouths instead of one big one, it couldn't do damage to her fast enough to do anything but hurt like hell.

With a finger to her cheek, her gaze pierced into my soul, "The bond will be restored once the destruction magic is eradicated. Spell leaves invisible residues. Healers are whitelighters that can remove the bad and reinstate the good. Therefore healers can repel dark energy. Look....." My eyes followed her fingers to a large white cloud that was to the left. It flickered with brief lightning streaks until images appeared. It was of my ancestor, named Delia. She was channeling her essence to heal someone. It was like being taken on a journey into her mind to understand how to heal someone. It revealed to me that later healers imitated her methods and successfully treated many people, thereaft

A dark light surrounds us, a man whom I don’t know is pulling me away from Harold’s body. “You cannot do that guardian!” he is shouting at me; I wave my hand and gave him a blinding light, he was gone. Is he a Redeemer too? How come I don’t know who he is?

Vaulted ceilings, dark mahogany, and massive, reinforced glass windows overlooking the snow-covered pine forests. "Don't move. Your nervous system is still in a state of severe shock." The voice was female, clinically detached, and laced with a subtle tremor of fear. I turned my head—the collar grating agonizingly against my bruised collarbone—to see an older Lycan woman in pristine white robes standing near the bed. The High Healer. She held a faintly glowing quartz diagnostic crystal, her hand trembling as she brought it near my throat. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," I rasped, my voice barely more than a dry whisper.

“That I’m not ready. That I won’t understand. But I deserve to know, Xander. I just watched you put your father on that damn floor. So don’t tell me that it’s complicated.” He studied me for a long moment. “You might freak out,” he warned. “Try me.” He leaned back, let out a breath and finally spoke. “Fine. I’m the Dark One, Maya. And Dupree?” He laughed softly. “I thought it was a funny name when he picked it. He’s the Gravok. The one you keep seeing in your dreams.” The world suddenly tilted. I stared at him with my mouth open and heart thundering so loud I was sure he could hear it.

His outfit was adorned with moon dust and his shoulder length locks swayed wildly in all directions as he moved his head. He read his audience carefully; folklore of all kinds. Upon focusing deeply, he was able to see their auras. He didn’t like what he saw. Most of them were emitting a black or red aura that reflected stress, anger, frustration and darkness of their cores. He was not disappointed however. He had firm faith in his music. He would heal them all with the power of his tunes, he was sure of that. His name was Paulo. Once the dark demon of music, now he was a healer of the damaged souls.

I screamed into my pillow. Images flashed on my haunted sclera, turning bloodshot: The charcoal furred, leather winged Beast. Me bleeding my heart's grace into a grimy tub, none of the royal trappings of my father's kingdom about me. My black Helish blood came out in thick tar clots, cursed as the rot inside of me. Nothing was sacred in this place, and I was not whole. After all, I am draugr, zombie – undead.

"That's what I thought as well, not until, I saw and heard everything myself. She confessed a lot of things to me. How she killed my... mothers. Mine and Doris. We aren't really sisters but still, we are sisters" Doris' eyes widened. No one said a word. There was ultimate silence. "She needed my blood in order to put her daughter, Celia into control, and to do that, she created the DHC- "DHC? What's that?" Frank asked again. He seemed to be the inquisitive type of person. "Dark hunters cartel. They specialize in hunting and killing supernatural though their main games are vampires" Lucas answered, on Tessa's stand. Karl angrily bit his lips.