Devil Vortex Saws Novels & Stories

Zap-flash-crackle! The blue temporal fields inside the drone’s weapon pods inverted catastrophically. The automated stabilization programming inside its corporate matrix couldn't handle the raw, unrefined voltage spike. The crimson eye flickered wildly from red to amber, its internal cooling fans shrieking before the entire unit flipped upside down, its propellers clipping the rock face before spinning down into the absolute white silence of the valley below.

Wolves collided with the shadows of those wings, thrown across the room as blood and instant death erupted. Vivica froze, eyes wide, her chest rising as she watched the devil himself descend upon them. The dark blue aura surrounding him pressed against her burning skin, sending a thrill along her heated skin, and desire, through her. All the rumors about him turned out to be true. He was the Devil. The real Devil. Finn stepped forward deliberately, each movement slow, lethal, deliberate. He stopped just in front of her, the room now deathly silent except for the beat of her pulsing heat.

My eyes swirled. Valentine's lips captured mine, pushing back the puke trying to reel out of my mouth. "Eat Daredevil. You need it to get strength,” He moaned in my mouth. He fed me. I ate a little and couldn't eat more. His hands snaked to my back. I felt my zipper running down. The hair at the back of my neck rose at its ends.

His pupils constricted into hair-thin vertical slits of pure, searing jealousy. Then, slowly, his eyelids dropped. Whirrrrr— Dorian's drone swarm launched from the metal case on his back. Twelve folding wings snapped open simultaneously, the high-frequency roar of the propellers drilling into eardrums. Sickly white searchlights raked across my seat in frantic sweeps, red laser lines slicing through the air in dense grids. Twelve cold surgical scalpels performing the most invasive scan of my body in perfect unison. Behind his control console, Dorian stared at the data exploding across his screens. His pupils were contracting in frantic, erratic spasms.

She is killing him right in front of you, and you are helping her carry the blades! He is flatlining because the silver is constricting his left ventricle! Valerie yelled, her voice expanding with a terrifying, dominant intensity that made the lower ranking riders visibly flinch. She grabbed a heavy, serrated surgical bone saw from the newly opened corporate crate, the metal blade instantly catching the harsh glare of the propane lanterns. Grim backed away into the corner, raising his hands. Thorne is right. The human technology is blasphemy. We should let the pack laws handle his passing.

replied Angel skeptically, with a faint snort. Xander and Angel walked into the spacious Atrium with various kinds of items that would be auctioned tonight. Auction participants and visitors were free to view the auction items at the stands around the stage. Xander took Angel to see an heirloom from a Middle Eastern kingdom. "What? Five million dollars for just a sword?” “That is no ordinary sword. That sword was used by the first king for war.” “That sword is the source of chaos. Maybe it's full of innocent people's blood. You wouldn't buy it, would you?”

POV DARLENE The Loom-Centinel was a geometric nightmare, its eight limbs moving with a high-speed, arachnid precision that defied the natural laws of a wolf’s hunt. As it lunged through the silver static of the processing floor, its "Optimization-Scythes" hummed with a cyan frequency that literally erased the shadows from the floor. It wasn't just trying to kill us; it was trying to Tidy us—to remove the "Messy" reality of our defiance from the pristine grid of the Twenty-Sixth Cycle.

The high-pitched, terrified ringing in my ears died down, replaced by a low, hungry roar. I didn't plan the next move. I didn't think at all. I just became a blur. My hands shot out, not to block, but to destroy. I locked my fingers around Devora’s throat. Her eyes went wide. The hate drained out of her face, replaced by raw, naked terror. "G-gah..." She tried to scream, but it only came out as a wet, choked rattle.

“What did you call back with me?” The seer’s expression darkened. “That,” she said softly, “remains to be seen.” … Hours later when Damon and the others saw the VORTEX facility come into view, it was clear that something dangerous was going on inside. Floodlights that once bathed the compound in white were now blinking weakly or broken completely, with most of their metal poles bent at grotesque angles. Sirens and alarms wailed in broken, stuttering patterns, with some cutting off abruptly as entire sections of the base collapsed inward.

“A-Aurora… that bitch… she’s back! She’s alive! She called me… she said she came back from hell to haunt us! To haunt us for what we did! I saw her, Richard, I swear! A silhouette, right there in the doorway! She’s back! She’s back!” Her voice rose to a hysterical pitch as she shivered uncontrollably,scanning the shadows for a specter only she could see.