Deku Carnage Novels & Stories

Lucas shouted again. With a roar, Kaden shoved the last wolf hard. The body flew, tumbling through blood-soaked grass before slamming into the dirt with a dull thud. Kaden threw his massive head back and howled once more, the sound vibrating through every bone. Then the change ripped through him again. Bones shattered and realigned. Fur receded like burning threads. I pushed upright on bare human legs, chest heaving, the metallic taste of blood still thick on my tongue. My eyes swept over the carnage. Countless dead bodies covered the border field. Blood painted the grass crimson.

I fixed myself in front of the mirror and cleaned up the bed sheet we once laid upon before finally deciding to go outside. As I slide away the tent covering my view, my jaw automatically dropped open as my eyes scanned the place. What the hell? I don’t know how I should react the moment my eyes landed in front me. There, stood Daevon not too far from me followed by a man who doesn’t look that much older. There were hello kitty standees, standing at the side of the aisle, holding baskets of flowers.

While the Dutchman Squad was expecting the members of the other squad to have gone ahead and set up an ambush at this clearing, both sides were given quite a surprise. Instead of the ambush that both sides were expecting, they were greeted by the sight of the remains of that squad being decimated by both a giant minotaur that was duel wielding stone axes and a strange mage appearing behind an unsuspecting player and comboing him to death with what appeared to be thief techniques while utilizing a pair of knives, which admittedly confused everyone else.

Artwork on the floor. My anxiety flares as we approach the cafeteria, and I almost stop to recoup my strength, but Alec yanks me on. His hand is like an iron band around my wrist, dragging me along. We go through the cafeteria, where the scene makes us pause. It’s like a battle zone here, chairs and tables lying in smashed, splintered pieces, the floor covered in a thick layer of shattered glass. I wince and look away. The cafeteria is the heart of the school, where we all eat together and relax between classes. Why would the Silver Hunters even bother destroying it? Are they just that angry, that they want to ruin anything they can get their hands on?

We bid a silent goodbye to the parts of us still inside our old home, which a few courses of antibiotics, plus a blast of radiation from an MRI, will surely dissolve to nothingness. A police cruiser arrives next, vomiting out two officers: one thick and squat, his partner thin and tall. Their nametags say ‘BARNES, D.’ and ‘GRIMES, T.’ We decide to name them Tweedledum and Tweedledee, for obvious reasons. Tweedledee issues a low whistle at the sight of Frank’s mangled remains, but neither seem too concerned about one of their colleagues converted into a hundred-fifty pounds of ground beef with glass chunks mixed in. “That who I think it is?” Tweedledum asks, cocking his head for a better view

To make me bleed to death as vengeance for all the people killed by my kind? His eyes bored into mine, then his lips touched mine, stealing my breath away, and even though I was frightened, I could still feel his touch wakening a familiar hunger in the pit of my stomach as I gave into the kiss, but then before it even started, his lips left mine again. I watched a little dazed, as he drew blood from his own palm with his claws, then he stepped closer. There was slight compassion in his eyes, but almost immediately, they faded and his eyes were terrifyingly cold once again, then he placed his palm over my neck. PERCY

A tool that worked to pay for its own survival. I walked into the kitchen and looked at the mountain of greasy dishes. Then, I plunged my hands into the freezing water. After I was done, I took out the small notebook I kept hidden in my pocket and carefully wrote down some details. [Senior year. Fainted. Hospital debt: 600.] [Goal: Get out of there.] [Step one: Get into the farthest college possible.]

Connor practically charged out of the venue. He didn't even bother to change out of the cumbersome formal attire. The old pier was surrounded by patrol vehicles. The air reeked of blood and a faint smell of silver rust that made every werewolf instinctively tremble with fear. It was a poison engineered for our kind, designed to prevent healing and amplify agony. It was a contraband so dangerous that it was strictly banned even on the black market. Chris stood at the entrance of a warehouse with his back against the flashing police lights, holding a transparent evidence bag.

BARRETT'S POV: I examined my reflection upon the blade of my freshly gleaming sword. My white-misted right eye contrasted greatly to my naturally dark-brown one, on my left side. I had a deep scar running across my face which caused the blindness and left a permanent sneer formed on my lips. I looked hideous. Not due to the scar, it was just how I was born. My cousin however had all the beauty and the women and if that was not enough he caused an additional deformaty for good measure. It wasn't quite like that, if he hadn't slashed my face I would've cut his heart out and forced his wife to be mine and made her produce an abundance of heirs, at least her beauty would've given them a chance.

Debrief happens at first light because grief does not cancel administration, which is one of civilization’s less charming design features. Everyone accounted for. Two wounded. One dead: Sam Kuiper. Maya writes the name herself. The pencil does not shake. That feels obscene. Denise reports Marcus’s injured woman next. Slice across the ribs. Deep. Should need stitches. Already closing. “Not normal,” Denise says quietly. “No,” Maya says. Marcus watches from across the room, sleeve torn, arm bandaged, face unreadable. Maya opens her private page. The Marcus page. The one she absolutely does not call the Marcus page.