Darkest Code Novels & Stories

“AUTHOR GRAVEYARD PARAMETERS LEAKING. CONTAINMENT… IMPOSSIBLE.” High in one corner of the new skyline, a single tower refused to fully integrate—a jag of old code clung to its side like mold, snippets of the old narrative twitching there: KEY_AUTHOR = RESOURCE PAIN = CONTENT They glowed faintly, then dimmed under a fresh wash of ink, not gone, but no longer running the show.

We didn't just walk into a trap; we had crawled directly into the stomach of the machine that gave birth to our nightmares. We stood deep within the digital underworld—the absolute bedrock of the city's hidden infrastructure, where the code was so dense it felt like cold, wet obsidian beneath our boots. The countdown in my head was a terrifying, physical throb, with less than three minutes remaining before our real-world cores exploded from the mutual harvest overload.

I muttered as I turned to leave. Without another glance back, I walked out of the clinic. Leaving Blake in charge of bringing her to me, at the Darkest Dungeon. We call it the Darkest Dungeon, not because it's dark literally. But because the harshest torture happens there. Those that don't deserve an easy death... Depending on their offense, ends up there. Where I could drag out their pains for weeks, months and even years. The last person that visited the Darkest Dungeon spent a year and two months there, facing the ultimate torture by the pass of each day until I finally decided to end him.

But this time, there was a small message embedded in the code. Guess you’ve figured who I am by now. Did you like the rose?

he critiqued. “And who might you be?” I asked. “You don’t need to know,” he replied. “Use this code, 'Dark Wings,' at the given address.” Then, the call ended abruptly, leaving me wondering how he knew so much. Talking to him felt like dealing with the most sinister individuals I'd ever encountered, and an uneasy shift in the air told me the mystery was right; I could feel Damon and Kayden's presence distantly; their exact locations eluded me. Driven by a mix of fear and curiosity, I got into my car. I drove quickly to the address provided without a second thought. The urgency to escape Damon's pursuit and the mysterious invitation spurred me on, leading me toward what I hoped would be a hav

He howled in pain as the knife cut from his collarbone down to his abdomen, making the blood gush out like a waterfall forming a thick pool of bright red liquid around him. The guy just shook his head, mumbling 'I don't know' several times, trying to ignore the pain and the amount of blood he was losing. But he couldn't. The torture his body was experiencing was like nothing before. He knew the moment he was caught sneaking inside the forbidden territory, that his life would turn hell, and if the Alpha is merciful enough, he'll kill him and end his constant misery of pure torment. In the corner of the dark dungeon, there was the so-called alpha of the pack, or more correctly, the Alpha King

Blake's sobs soon followed at the sight of nothingness, darkness and that one hole on the ceiling. "L-luca, p-please. Get me o-out of here, p-please." Sobbed Blake in despair, his lips quivering in fear. The shivers didn't stop to crawl on his skin, as the thought of not getting out there forever started to eat his soul. He crawled backwards until a cold wall hit his back, as the sound of chains echoed around the dark room.

"My daughter has the technology, but I have the codes. I’ve lived in her shadow for five years, playing the 'grateful father' while she treated me like a servant." Suddenly, the ground began to vibrate. A low, rhythmic thumping echoed from the Vash Pack mansion. "What is that?" Lena shrieked, her composure breaking. Vanessa’s face went stone-cold. "That’s the heartbeat of my pack. Marcus! Code Blackout!". Vanessa’s POV In an instant, every light in the forest vanished. The advanced night-vision goggles Dickson’s men wore shrieked with feedback as I triggered a high-frequency EMP. Screams erupted in the dark.

~•~••~•~ Saumya Tripathi | His darkest shade. Copyrights © 2026 by Saumya Tripathi. All rights reserved. The author neither promotes nor supports the actions mentioned in this story. It is purely fictional and should be taken as such. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without my prior written permission. Note that this is an ongoing story, and therefore subject to change. All copies published are of the party of Saumya Tripathi.

His father knowing his son used to be scared of darkness, dry and vacant places. That’s how his father decided to punish that little boy, wherever he wished something from his father, he used to lock him over in a room which he named it ‘a darkroom’, he scared him way too much that whenever somebody asked him if his father is treating him badly, he could only think of his own shouts and plead to his father. Never dared to tell anyone about a single abuse. Brandon knew if he opened his mouth and his father got to listen to complaints against himself, he would be a dead man by the next day.