Enigmatic Encounter Novels & Stories

As the New Year's bell was about to chime, I heard Zac's voice, thinking it was a hallucination. "Anna." I raised my head, and the doorbell at the entrance rang. I opened the door to find Zac holding fireworks under the moonlight, his eyes glistening with a faint watery sheen. "Anna, Happy New Year!" His finely scattered bangs partially covered his eyebrows. In the gentle, mist-like starlight, the man's dark and profound eyes exuded the tranquility of a peaceful time. The man's melodious voice echoed above, and at the same time, the pitch-black sky behind him bloomed with colorful fireworks.

The air outside the cavern was still, unnaturally so, as if the world itself was holding its breath. They had withdrawn after the encounter with Varethkaal, retreating to a small rise above the hollow—Clara, Ashani, Isla, and Emily, silent and shaken. The encounter had not gone as planned. Varethkaal’s presence had been more than raw power—it was familiar, like something that had always been there, lurking in Clara’s bones. And Emily… she was different now. Touched.

“I love black holes.” I squirmed in my seat. “What are you doing?” I looked around. We were near the back of the planetarium with no one around them, but we were still in public. When I felt Kai’s hand slide inside my pants, his fingers finding my wet folds, I let out a hiss. I gripped the armrests as he slipped up and down my slit. “Kai, we shouldn’t do this. Not here.”

Since the compass in her chest that always pointed northeast. "Okay," she said softly. Damien set his hands flat on the counter. "There are people in this world," he said slowly, "who are not entirely what they appear to be. Who carry something older than ordinary. Something—" He paused. "Something that makes them more." Rain set her spoon down. Her neck was prickling again. But differently this time. Differently from any time before. Like recognition. Like something inside her going yes. "Damien," she said carefully. "What are you?"

Yet, amidst the shadows of her desolation, a spark of intrigue emerged when she encountered a magic user unlike any she had known before. On one fateful evening, as the moon hung low and the stars seemed to shimmer with secrets, Isolde's path crossed with a man named Eamon. He exuded an aura of mystique, his presence a melody that resonated with the depths of her being. Eamon was not a witch or wizard, but a magic user – someone who wielded the arcane without the trappings of the traditional magical arts.

I turned my head, slow and disbelieving, and there it was—the beast. Blood-red fur. Eyes like burning coals. Real. Too real. “This isn’t happening,” I whispered, shaking my head. “You’re not real.” Its grin was wide and terrible, teeth gleaming wet and sharp. “You will rest now,” it said, voice low and certain. “Because those are not suppressants, and soon, you will understand—an enigma should never be caged.” The last word echoed inside my skull as the floor gave out beneath me. The world folded into black. Enigma?