Dungeon Punk Novels & Stories

The next morning, while the happy throuple are sleeping in, Zak, Diego, Karamea, Liam, Sandra, and I make our ways to the dungeons. There are several members of the former Cancer, Lycaon, and Mene packs, along with the previous members of the M**i packs and rouges that had actively fought against us and we had imprisoned them, at least until the war is over.

Anyways, back to the hierarchy. We had this groups of boys; the sports players? I won't call them that because some members of this group were in debate clubs and others were rappers in High Rhythm( the school music group), Mofy and some others call them Assholes and yes, Manny had managed to make his way into their group last term, God-knows-what he had he had to do; whatever it was, it wasn't legal at all. Saudis; a girls-only-group, obviously. If this was a Netflix movie they would be cheerleaders but the Saudis were a diverse group just like the Assholes. They could be the mean girls but if the mean girls were seven in number.

I shouldn't think about this right now. My attention goes back to the music as I let it sink in. I hear a deep masculine voice behind me. "Hello Angel, may I have this dance?" I look behind my gaze, falling on a 6 or 6'5ft angel. He's dressed in a clean, jet black suit, with green seductive eyes matching his green inner shirt. His hair is in a buzz cut style, full, noticeable eyebrows, long lashes, caramel skin tone, and a clean shave with a little mustache that makes you want to think about bed play.

“Based on our investigation, we are certain that the previous chief is being held in Dragon’s Dungeon.” Dragon’s Dungeon? Andrius was slightly surprised. “You can go now.” “Yes, Chief.” After the man left, Andrius and Noir frowned. Dragon’s Dungeon was one of the most infamous prisons in Florence. It was located near the Central Warzone, under the jurisdiction of Baron Von Doom, the Central Warzone Master. Only the most notorious criminals with extraordinary power or unusual foreign spies were locked up thee, and Black Hawk was one of them. The security was so tight there it was impossible to break out.

It was the most beautiful feeling I have ever come across in my long painful and boring life. “Wow.” Crystal breathed as we opened the private room on the same floor that overlooked a very giant play station, which was another floor deeper into the ground. Talk about a basement that had had a basement. Fomr what I was told, the Dungeon was 4 floors into the ground; and I couldn't begin to imagine the money that must have been used to construct all of that opulence. There were about 6 private rooms (which looked more like VIP booths considering that they just had three walls, and a railing towering over the stage.) on this floor and others that went further deeper into the ground.

I gave him a scornful look but he still guided me to the stairs and out of the metal door where I startlingly saw Phillius who is already waiting for me to get out of the dungeon. The door of the dungeon is in the middle of the garden like a secret passage which automatically opens when I press a button on the side of it. It cannot be seen clearly by humans because the metal door is covered with artificial grass that hides it from plain sight. But for the werewolves, this dungeon is not a secret to any of them because I am sure they clearly smell the awful stink down of it and I wonder how many Faes Phillius had captured to torture down that horrible place.

Part of me is excited about the fact that I have a little one growing deep inside my body while I am already on Derrick's black book. Like the universe is not on my side, I begin to hear a creepy sound around the dungeon. It feels like a prey is coming to attack me, this dungeon is at the outskirts of the pack house and enemies will be lurking. Bracing myself, I pull myself closer into the wall. Even if I engage in a fight with anyone right now, I don’t even have any weapons to aid me. It was going to be a futile fight. Before I can even get myself ready, the door blasts open and I am heavily thrown against the wall making me groan in pain as blood splashes out of my mouth.

My name's Elizabeth Morgan, I'm 17 and a senior at Hillside High. If you didn't catch on, I live in this town called Hillside. We have lots of hills, and it's the most boring place I've ever lived. I don't recommend it to anyone. Anyways, back to the important stuff and the real reason why you're reading this. At my school, there's this one boy who is commonly known as the fuckboy. He's slept with every girl in our grade besides four of us. Those lucky four being myself, my best friend Ellie, and two other girls you'll probably hear about later.

Target: Get drunk and get laid. So I moved through the dancing bodies, nodding my head to the beat and grabbing another cup as my previous one was empty. But as some of the girls sidled up to me, twirling their hair, my irritation grew. One puck bunny I’d seen sucking Matt’s dick under the stairs tried to slide her hand up my arm, but I just knocked off her ugly nails and glared until she backed off. Just great Dorian. I muttered to myself, aware I was blowing any chances I had with the ladies.