Novelas y relatos de Doom

But today, her focus was off, and she knew why. It was a Dragon Moon--just not for their kingdom. Rather, the kingdom directly to their north, Hightower, would be forced to make the sacrifice that night. Every time a Dragon Moon rolled around, Nya found it difficult to concentrate, even when it wasn’t her kingdom who would choose someone to be taken by the dragon. Just the idea that the bastard would be flying through the sky, filling the air with shrieks and fire, claiming another innocent life. Even if it wasn’t a citizen from Frindom, it was a person who would be dead soon enough, someone who was blameless, and that wasn’t right.

The rest of the dinner was the usual with the whole family being merry. Serena lay in bed as she thought how her brother is soon going to be passed on the duty of the beta. Damon is 22 and the gamma’s son is 23 but both of them have had to wait till her brother’s best friend, the alpha’s son Vante is 22, his birthday is in a month. They waited because in our pack the ceremony is held only after all three of them, three of them referring to the people taking the position of Alpha, Beta and Gamma are of age that is 22. And soon she was drifting off to dreamland.

Serena cried out, “They’re breaking through!” The Sorority Wing – Connected Building They had no choice but to push forward. The dorms were connected by a skybridge. As they crossed, Damien froze. A group of infected sorority girls — including one he had fed from consensually just two nights ago — charged them. Their once-beautiful faces were twisted, designer clothes ripped and bloody. Damien moved like a ghost. He snapped necks with cold efficiency, but each kill carved another piece out of him. “They were innocent,” he whispered after the last one fell. “This virus doesn’t care about bloodlines or covens or packs. It takes everything.”

As the medical team rushed in to stabilize him, I stood coldly aside, expressionless, like a detached observer. … A few days later, at Gunner Corp's press conference, I stood under the glaring lights in a sharply tailored black suit. My face showed fatigue, but my gaze was unwavering. Facing the cameras and murmuring media, I bowed deeply. "Thank you, everyone, for your concern regarding myself and my husband, Mr. Wilson Gunner." My voice carried a faint rasp of exhaustion. "It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that my husband had a rare case of Fournier gangrene. Although his life was saved through intensive care, he suffered extremely severe complications, resulting in… massive,

I continued before he could interrupt me, “Six days from now, something will happen – I don’t’ know what exactly – but I do know the effects. It will begin suddenly, people will start getting sick, society will collapse, and the dead will rise.” His expression remained skeptical. “Are you talking about a zombie apocalypse?” he asked, his tone filled with confusion and slight disbelief, I nodded, “Yes, Zombies,” His face went completely blank. I sighed, “I know how it sounds, but that is the truth.” “You're telling me zombies are going to appear in six days?” he stared at me as he asked the question, “Yes.” I nodded, He just kept on staring. So, I took a deep breath and continued.

Donovan Enterprises occupied the top fourteen floors of a glass tower in the financial district that caught the morning light and threw it back at you like a warning. I stood on the pavement outside for a moment, looking up at it. In my previous life I had never had a reason to come here. I had read about it afterward, in the examination articles, described as a memorial to one man's refusal to accept limitations, the journalist had meant it admiringly, reading it after the collapse, it had just sounded like a tribute, not this time. I pushed through the revolving door. The lobby was everything the building promised from the outside.

And the moment his body evaporates, I quickly cast. “Ek bölva þér, Dómsblóð: þú skalt hverfa úr veru, bundinn í tíma, glataður hjóli hans um aldur ok ævi; kjarni þinn skal aldrei rísa, aldrei snúa aftur, hvorki í þennan heim né hinn, óleystur um eilífð. (I curse you, Doomsblood: you shall cease to exist, bound within time, lost to its wheel for all ages and lives; your essence shall never rise, never return, neither to this realm nor the other, unredeemed for eternity).

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That was it. "Axel refuses to kill me. He sent a hybrid - half witch and half wolf - to take me to him." Noelle said. "But Mira stopped me from walking into his trap. Instead..." Her eyes whelmed with tears. Instead, her friends became the prey of that killing machine. "That wolf, is called Doom." She said. "He is addicted to the stench of death, and now that he had a whiff of it, everyone is in danger."

<★★★★ BLUE MOON PACK ★★★★> Damon stood in the dimly lit room, his eyes scanning the remnants of his brother’s life that had been left untouched since the day of his death. The air was heavy with the scent of old wood and dust, a somber reminder of the time that had passed. This room, once vibrant with the energy of his brother, was now a mausoleum, filled with memories too painful to revisit. Damon had avoided this place for so long, unable to face the reality of his brother's absence. But today, something had drawn him in, a need to connect with the person he had lost so tragically.