Enderman Novels & Stories

Azazel yelled. Just then Daniel saw two lower level demons carrying a thin, frail woman. Her skin was translucent and gray. Her bones were clearly visible under her nightgown. They carried her over to Azazel and threw her down at Daniel's feet. Daniel knew, before she even looked up at him, that this was his Elizabeth or what she had been reduced too.

The goblin continued to point out albeit tracing his filthy, thick, scarred fingers on Amethyst's cheeks as if he were applying 'witch hazel' to make her skin even and warm. "I'm all ears!" In a mocking tone, Amethyst tittered the words out, making the one in front of her flinch with visible rage at her utters. Twisting his lips, Thunder closed his large, yellow eyes and took a deep breath. "I…I think there might be a creature that will give you all that your heart desires — the power and a hand to take down Wendell." Thunder hissed. "The one whose life has ended way before Nerida was born but is considered undead and feeds on the blood of the living— A Nosferatu!" Thunder emphasised, giggli

Dorian added, coming to stand protectively beside me. "I understand." A sad smile lifted Kenmei's lips. "A revenant is a changeling. Not quite human and not quite a vampire." At that word - vampire - all hell broke loose. The guys started shouting simultaneously about lies and fairytales. I pulled my knees to my chest and put my forehead on my kneecaps. Tears dripped from my eyes onto my jeans. I'd let the brothers figure this one out.

He is so happy because he will finally be able to escape this chaotic world and they will be able to fulfill the simple dream of Akira and his as a normal couple. When he arrived at the condo, he immediately took a shower first to be able to clean and to make sure if he hadn't been scratched before. As the water flows through his body you can see the blood of his victims clinging to him gradually flowing into the sink. Azrael’s body is full of scars from his wounds from his previous missions and on his back is a large tattoo— “Deus Mortis” which in Latin means “God of death” is what the organization called him because of the number of impossible missions he has accomplished.

She seemed to peaceful in her sleep and I close my eyes. I'm startled awake by screaming and for a moment I forget where I am. The woman I saved was wielding a kitchen knife at me, fear washing over her face. I hold my hands up to show her I wasn't armed. I left my short swords by the door. Recognition fills her eyes and drops the knife. "The legend is true? You're the Dhampir," she asks in disbelief, reaching to touch my face. I close my eyes to her touch and picture my mother. Tears roll down my cheeks and she pulls her hands away. "Thank you for saving my life."

Emily chuckled, "Not this witch." She growled, breaking out from his chains and standing on her feet. Lerman snarled, "I see the little one's got some tricks up her sleeves eh? Perks of working with Elrold right?" Lerman sneered, pushing his hands forward. Emily swiftly dodged the incoming force that was supposed to hit her and used her telekinesis to grab his leg and fling him into a pile of rubble. Lerman groaned, but was back on his feet,

Thea, Wyot, and Taran appeared one after the other. “What happened?” Wyot asked, while Thea and Taran both looked at James. James responded, “I’ve received news that the Great Elder of Emyr Island in the Central Plane outside Endlos has made an appearance in Endlos. Emyr Island is the home of the Extraterrestrial Demons that attacked Endlos. The Great Elder’s name is Lor Willasse, and he’s a Sovereign Third Rank powerhouse.”

He grinned at her in a way she could only describe as predatory. "Who are you?" Liv tried to stand, but was still unable to make it to her feet. Her head swam from the blow to her head. "Come now, beauty. Let me help you." The strange man lifted her by the armpits and walked her to a fur covered chair near a table. "I am Killian O'Mara of the Blackfoot Pack," he said with the slightest Irish lilt to his voice. He gave her a courtly little bow before sitting in the chair across the table from her.

Darians voice, rough and dark echoed against the walls, “do you step down from your claim?” Emanuel flickered his gaze, fighting for the last strings of life and looked at me, a wheezing sound left his lips as he choked out “yes.” As soon as the word left his lips, Darian released his hold and Emanuels body falls to the floor in a pool of his own blood. Darian took out a white handkerchief from the pocket of his jacket- he wiped the blood off his hands as though the blood came from an animal he had killed, but no matter how much he wiped they were still stained red.

Inside was a velvet-wrapped ledger bound in faded red leather. The Ember Grimoire. It was a chronicle—half memoir, half confession—written in delicate script by Eleanor Montrose. Isabelle’s missing ancestor. “The flame is a memory. A power buried in blood and bone. The Keepers are not chosen,they are awakened. And the price of awakening is always a life.” Isabelle’s heart pounded. She turned the pages faster, until a symbol caught her eye: the intertwined keys. And below it, scrawled in desperate ink: