Doom Slayer Novels & Stories

"But here is it. No one will pull the trigger on your behalf. I will get him for you and I promise you, just like you pulled the trigger on your sister, you will pull the trigger on him, and no one, not even the Beast will come after you. You have my word." Sergio as well as Claus was surprised. Carol never promises people. Sergio was just a small boy when Carol left the brotherhood. They had celebrated her 100th kill and her freedom being the first person to gain her freedom. That gave most of them hope that they could one day escape the fate the Beast had forced on them. Claus didn't wait to be celebrated. They just knew he made his 100th kill and never returned because his woman left him.

Her green hair served as a covering for her nakedness, covering up her breasts and feminine folds. “Shut up!” Doom snapped, and he too came out of the dark. He was a giant man, with shiny golden skin and broad shoulders and chest—much bigger than Mischief. He was three times her size, and he didn’t know how the books said they were together, but he wasn’t here to figure that out. He was here to make a request. “I am a pusher of boundaries, and so I would say, six months.” “What’s six months?” Doom asked, looking a little clueless about it all.

A deep-seated fury burned within them, a fire that seemed to fuel their every move. Their eyes blazed with an unspoken rage, a rage that seemed to course through their very veins like liquid flame. Their arms moved with a swift, deadly precision, the edges of their blades slicing across the skin of their victims with a sickening ease. The slayers themselves were a terrifying sight to behold. Clad in black from head to toe, their faces masked by darkness, they seemed to blend seamlessly into the shadows. Only their eyes gleamed with a malevolent intensity, a fierce light that seemed to burn brighter with every passing moment.

I put the gun against the back of his head as he bent down to retrieve Dillinger’s gun. “Down,” I said and he went flat on the ground. I put the Jericho back in the holster and took the Karambit out. I pulled his head backward and brought the knife slowly to the front. “Jericho,” he groaned. “The Karambit, best damn slicer in the world,” I said and cut his throat. The gaping wound made gurgling sounds as his breath escaped through his windpipe and I let his head fall forward. I wiped the blade on his shirt and put it back on my belt holster.

But after years of repeated pregnancies, my body was weak and fragile. He easily grabbed my neck and slowly crushed my windpipe. He told me that the daughter who had been sent away had already died of illness long ago. Everything went black before my eyes, and I violently coughed up blood and died. After my death, he threw my and my daughter's corpses into the wilderness to be devoured by hungry wolves. He then ceremoniously married Briar, who was five months pregnant. Damien was focused on getting sons to inherit the throne, but I learned that I had awakened the Creator Goddess bloodline after my death, and my daughters would have inherited ancient power to end this apocalypse.

When Johann was finally done with his romantic getaway, he came back home and trampled all over my self-esteem like he was disciplining a mere dog. Was I just their afterthought after all? I flung my phone onto the couch in a rage. "I hate secondhand men who've been defiled by other women!" This was the first time I had said such harsh words to him. Unexpectedly, Johann frowned at once as anger lit up in his fiery eyes. He grabbed my chin tightly and slapped me hard on the cheek just a split second later. He slapped me so hard that my vision blacked out for a moment. "Nancy Castro! I am the one paying for your food and your lodging! How dare you yell at me like that! Who the hell do you thin

Jake whispered, reaching out a trembling hand. Marcus looked at the hand. Then he looked at Jake’s face. "Don't touch me," Marcus said. His voice was dead. Cold as the void behind them. "I'm killing it!" the father screamed, his mind snapping at the sight of the supernatural. He raised the gun, aiming not at the boys, but at the swirling purple eye of the Door. BANG. The gunshot shattered the spell. The bullet sparked against the brickwork inches from Marcus's head, sending red dust flying.

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.

Danilo, who was just about to head up after going downstairs, bumped right into a zombie and immediately let out an ear-piercing scream. There was then the sound of liquid splattering and bones shattering. Lasagna trembled violently in my arms. I buried her head into my chest, covering her ears. However, the sounds could still be heard. "Damn it!" Someone cursed outside the door. It was Paolo. "Boss! What should we do?" "Shut up!" Marco's voice was still low and suppressed, but this time, I could hear the trembling in his voice. Quinto didn't say a word, and neither did Valerio.

“The Black Spring I am not the holder of it anymore.” Slayer, “Huh? Liar, you just hide it somewhere. Retrieving that weapon and your head, we might ascend our rank, and be a high ranker and have our own official name too.” Slicer, “I want to fight her, head to head. But too bad, to her current state your underlings is enough to finish her.” Gunslinger, “.........” Slayer, “You heard him. Finish her off!”