Dark Medieval Fantasy Novels & Stories

The van arrived at an ancient castle-like estate, and we were led in by the bastard who slapped me. We followed quietly. With Linda's walking, I knew she would pass out soon. I hoped they take us to our cells so she could rest. The castle was cold, old and dark, but it had the taste of affluence. It was like a beautiful antique that was well cared for. I knew the Dark Alpha came from old money but seeing this castle, I needed help to guess how old.

The surroundings gradually darkened because the moon has changed color, but any darkness is irrelevant to my eyes that can see right through it. I can hear screams everywhere, which almost drew my attention, but they vanished when, from the darkest part of that place, I saw someone standing—no, he was now walking—and in an instant, he was already in front of me, but I didn't have the chance to see his face. The next thing I knew, he had sucked my neck and drunk my blood along with my screams and a tight grip on his ripped arm. "You're all mine. Your blood, your body, your soul. I'll kill everyone who threatens me and my possession. I'll kill whoever try to take you away from me. Now sleep, A

Reuel whispered, his hot breath hitting her face and neck before he returned to his seat. "It's nice meeting you, Elise," Azael added once his brother had taken his seat and Elise felt her chest tighten. There was something dark and deep in his tone, an evil promise that she couldn't comprehend. It felt as if she had entered a dangerous place with no way of escape and what creeped her out was her intuitions were never wrong.

"You mean the readers aren't finished with us. They want more drama. More blood. More 'Davis' tragedy." ​"They want a Legacy," the girl corrected, pointing her flute toward the horizon. ​Beyond the hill, the "Reality 2.0" city began to change. The buildings didn't turn back into grey blocks, but they began to grow Gothic Spires. The sun didn't set; it turned a deep, blood-red, and a second moon—shattered and glowing—appeared in the sky. ​[GENRE SHIFT: DARK FANTASY REBIRTH.] [OBJECTIVE: PROTECT THE ORIGINALS.]

I apologize. But for those who like it, don't forget to check my other book. I also have a new ongoing one (PULSE: A CONTRACT WITH DAMIEN.) A seven in one book. Let's give you a sneak peek shall we? Vampires -Death. Fae's - Darkness. Demons - Agony. Werewolves - Curse. Humans - Fear. Witches/ Warlocks/ and Beasts - Dark magic. DOOM(HELL) - ALL. ALL THE SPECIES AND THEIR TRIBULATIONS.

My vision blackens at the edges, my legs weakening as I lean heavily against the door. Dominic is there, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of my agony. As if he had been waiting for me, his hand reaches out to catch me before I can fall, his touch a lifeline in the darkness that threatens to engulf me. Without a word, he guides me down to the basement, the cool stone walls closing in around us like a protective cocoon. With every step I take, the pain of the wolf’s bane coursing through my veins intensifies, a relentless torment that threatens to overwhelm me. Each breath is a struggle, each heartbeat a reminder of the poison that now courses through my body. The air is heavy with th

Below it, two opposing forces met in a cataclysmic confrontation. I recognized the faces of the Lycan brothers, their ferocity unleashed, fighting with a primal hunger I hadn't witnessed before. And then, a moment that stole my breath—a massive, shadowy creature, its eyes burning with an infernal light, rising from the depths, casting a pall over everything. It was a being of pure malevolence, and my blood ran cold as I felt its gaze, even through the vision, pierce directly into my soul. The final image was of a colossal, ancient tree, its roots reaching deep into the earth, its branches stretching towards the heavens, yet its leaves were withered and black, as if cursed.

Then, through the trees, a column of riders appeared—black silhouettes against the crimson light. The villagers poured into the square, whispering prayers. At the front rode a man who seemed carved from shadow itself. His armor was etched with runes that pulsed faintly red, and a long cloak flowed behind him like smoke. His face was half hidden by a hood, but his eyes caught the moonlight—crimson, cold, and alive. “The Dark Prince,” someone breathed. “He’s real.” The man dismounted, the air itself seeming to bow away from him. His gaze swept the crowd. “By order of the Crown,” he said, voice low but carrying. “We seek the girl born under the Blood Moon.”

Zombies are not real. He is patient. His heart is killing him but he is patient. He will see it through. He will see the figure. Slowly, it is becoming clearer. He can see the shape out of the dark. It looks like a human. It is human. But zombies are humans that ended up as lab rats and return to revenge so it is too early to judge. If it is human, why are they out at night, walking slowly from the dark? The house. Towards the house.

Legends spoke of ancient invaders, creatures born of chaos, who once ravaged the sanctity of the celestial realm. A sprawling black realm loomed in the heart of the primordial abyss that was too far distant from Bleurealm's reach. Its skies were shrouded in perpetual darkness, while its earth was awash in a macabre hue of crimson. Grotesque fiends prowled in the shadowed jungles, and a pervasive rotting odour stretched across the area. It was the sort of realm that befitted the damned.