Dread Heads Novels & Stories

You're better at that tech shit than the rest of us. "I can try," I said. "What details do you have?" "Dark auburn hair, green eyes, short, curvy, expensive taste in bags but dresses like she's hiding. Probably a freshman based on how scared she looked." Dreyven headed toward his room. "Oh, and she likes Stephen King apparently. Had a copy of some horror book in her bag when it spilled." "That's not a lot to go on," I said. "It's enough. This university isn't that big." He paused at his door. "Thanks for having my back, brothers. Means everything."

This group of vampires, who only knew how to take from me and use me for their own ends, were not worthy of being my clan. And that unworthy mate, I had already given up on him completely. He would get what was coming to him. --- Three Months Later — Silver Moon Clan Territory I stood on the balcony of my new castle, looking out over the moonlit city, feeling at peace. My phone rang. It was Chloe. “Lydia, did you see the news?” her voice was buzzing with excitement. “Your ex’s clan has completely collapsed!” “I saw,” I said lightly. The internal vampire communiqués were very detailed:

The freshman dorms — Hawthorne Hall — loomed like a tomb under the blood-red moonlight breaking through the storm clouds. Screams poured from every window. Glass shattered. Bodies slammed against doors from the inside. Kael led the charge, still shirtless, his wounds from earlier already knitting closed thanks to werewolf healing. “My little cousin is in there,” he growled, voice raw. “Or… what’s left of him.” Damien moved silently at his side, crimson eyes scanning the shadows. “Sentiment will get us killed.”

It’s just a light touch, a fleeting moment of locking lips, before I lift my head and stare into her eyes. The room closes in on me. Walls converge as if to swallow me whole. The weight of dread presses upon my chest, making it difficult to draw a steady breath. What the fuck is wrong with me? Damion’s words flash through my mind — voodoo magic. And I realize this girl must be a fucking witch.

"They print giant words that say JOE HALE JEALOUS OF MORE THAN JUST HIS RIVAL ALPHA'S SUCCESS." "They still do not get it right," Jone grumbles, his voice sound tight and full of fear as his cheeks turn super red. "My omega wolf thinks the letters should just say JOE HALE KISSES MICHAEL JACKSON IN A JEALOUS FIT because hiding our eternal moonmark is making my head hurt so much." "Kitten?"

Jack sat among the regional heads of Hell’s Gang, trying to keep his nerves under control. The room was filled with tension, and though the faces around him appeared calm, he knew many of them were just as nervous as he was. It wasn’t every day that Hades called a meeting like this. Jack could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his palms sweaty beneath the table. He kept telling himself to stay calm, but the fear was gnawing at him from the inside.

She said, the feeling of dread slowly materialize in her heart. The boy can only shook his head and hovered calmly in the air. But just as he wave his hand, his expression greatly change. He's shaken as he cough a mouthful of bloody. He murmured, “Impossible...” Bright felt her scalp numb. The shadow fully express the aura of rot just now. It's not seem to be aquire the rotted force, but it definitely is belong to it! The dread in her heart couldn't be more true. It can be said that she's so high and might, and only few of the clan will dreaded her. And those are the Ancestors!

Decay. The flesh quivered. An arm reached out from the mesh, its broken nails clawed against the floorboards. Its head peeked out from the clump. Eyeless, with skin folded over the sockets. Its jaws parted, revealing rotting sharp teeth where drools of ichor streamed down. Jayce stared, horrified, as more bodies unwrapped themselves from one another. Their arms extended outward, like extended insect appendages. The bodies were sealed off at the waist, but morphed together with each body. It raised itself. Each head pointed towards Jayce, Aiden and the children.

Beside her, the chipmunk descends from the van and removes his oversized head, revealing—no surprises here—the sweaty head of Detective Mott. Our enemies march toward us, gaining speed. It’s the hazmat suits that scare us the most, because it means that something, somewhere, has gone world-endingly wrong. How will we continue to enjoy our drugs if all the drug dealers are bleeding from the eyes with some kind of hemorrhagic fever?

The door creaked open, and Necro entered, his eyes holding a grave seriousness. "Necro, what is this about? Your letter spoke of preparing for the worst. What have you seen?" Necro's expression was somber, his voice tinged with a mix of concern and urgency. "Dax, I've had visions of a great threat looming over our pack. It's unlike anything we've faced before. The balance of power is shifting, and danger lurks in the shadows." Dax's brow furrowed as he absorbed the weight of Necro's words. He knew that he had to act swiftly to protect his pack.