Eldritch Terrors Mythology Novels & Stories

Goliath's voice sounded cold and a bit harsh, but the critters only stared at him. "Pay attention to what he is going to do, then replicate it," David ordered his minions, who promptly nodded and started to pay attention to Goliath's actions. "First, we'll start with a history lesson. Abyssal druids believe in the will of Nature. That all plants and animals have a soul on their own. But we also believe that the Will of the Abyss is greater than Nature's and that it should bend to fulfill the Abyss' and our wishes." Goliath nodded and put the crystal against the log. "Oh, mighty abyss, lend me your aid, bend the will of nature to my desire!"

It was. He didn’t know how long he’d been walking. Time bent here. He remembered the shoreline—remembered running, the salt wind burning his lungs, the chanting of the cult at his heels. He remembered Marla’s eyes, hollow and shining like mirrors. And then the water had claimed him. Not drowning. Not quite. It had welcomed him. And then he’d seen it. Varethkaal. But not as Clara or Emily had known it. No, what Drift saw was only a sliver of the thing’s truest form. Something older, vast, and split across realms. Something beneath even the dark—the living will of a god that had not yet finished being born.

- Yamato, Peter, Oliver - "I'm surprised you know of R'yarj." Yamato said. "How do you know about that?" Oliver asked Peter. "The eldritch are a mystery to most gods." "Hell's library." Peter said. "There's books on just about every bein' in the world. One of the books, written by Satan, is about the eldritch. The book didn't have much in the way of information, but it did mention the eldritch that had the ability to give deals." He sighed. "Satan's obsession with arbiters is one of his few positive traits."

From the depths of the portal, nightmarish creatures began to emerge—twisted forms of beasts that seemed to be born from the darkest nightmares. “Behold!” Drax’s voice boomed, resonating with a sinister glee. “You think you can stand against me? I will unleash a horde that will drown you in despair!” Xienma’s heart sank as she took in the grotesque figures that crawled forth—monsters with jagged teeth, eyes that glimmered like shards of broken glass, and bodies that seemed to distort and shift. The very essence of fear radiated from them, and she felt the weight of dread settle over her like a heavy cloak.

At those words, a heavier, darker silence fell. Among the council of elders, a few of the oldest, hair white as ancient snow, gasped in open horror. Their faces, so recently twisted in anger, now drained into pure, unfiltered terror, as if they had just heard a forbidden demon’s name spoken aloud. “Impossible…” one of them whispered, his wrinkled hand trembling violently. “That… that’s only a myth…” Rayden felt a cold far sharper than the ice around him sink into his bones. He didn’t know what the Primordial Tomb was, but the elders’ reaction was enough. This was taboo and forbidden legend.

It would be foolish to risk him having a clue and shutting up. “We have always been there. Ever since good has existed, there has also been evil. Edimmu, Jiang Shi, Ghoul. We were called Draugr in the Nordic countries. They have called us different things through time, but we are the same and with the sole purpose of creating fear in people so that they appreciate the good and correct. Some of us, however, have been just a bit theatrical, Lamia and Lillith, for example”. "What has that got to do with the pact ?"

Uncountable body parts and inner organs and red-black blood soaked most of the ground as far as the eyes could see. “How many creatures of darkness have you left? Nyarlathotep? You should know that I’m a god of matter and I could birth my lovely dark young infinitely no matter how many you have killed.” The lady in red smiles creepily at the butler in front of her while raising her hand. A dark creature with many black tentacles slowly gives birth from the pile of corpses behind her. Its hideous feature and many mouths bleated out a bleat like a young goat calling its mother.

I almost jumped on my seat not at all expecting 'demons' as my mother's murderers. " Lemme explain first, calm down your ass." She exclaimed and gently took my hands in hers, patting it softly. " Their main motive was to attack me, so that they could suck out the 'potus' crystal from my chest. But unfortunately as they mistook her for me, there wasn't any potus crystal in there 'cause she was a normal human." (Incase you're confused with this 'potus' word , the author combined two words to form this one which are

Each one radiated a hunger so ancient it made my magic recoil, slamming against the chains that bound me like a trapped storm. Nytherion wasn’t a myth. It was a wound. And I had torn it open. The first horror stepped fully into the world, its head twisting unnaturally, a maw opening across its chest instead of its face. The sound it made was laughter—but not the human kind. The laughter of something that had watched universes die and thought it was beautiful. Kael moved. Gods save us all, Kael moved like war incarnate.

Or it would make sure you did. Professor Alaric swept onto the dais, his crimson cloak trailing sparks. His voice thundered through the space. “Today, we study Drakonis. The realm of fire, dominion, and emperors who slaughtered kin to keep crowns.” The globes flashed—dragons streaking across the sky, black fire swallowing entire villages. Basilisks slithering from volcanic cracks, turning soldiers to ash mid-scream. And the worst— the Myrhal predators. Even their memories shook the wards along the walls.