Fear Street Camp Nightwing Book Novels & Stories

But these aren’t the detectives one would expect at a crime scene. “This is definitely one of the twins. Clear this shit up, I don’t want any form of human interference in this. Especially the police, that would just be bad for business”. “We found this ma’am” one of the goons walk to the red haired woman and hands a book to her. “What is this?” “Have a look”. She opens the book and sees his name, Drago Morningstar. “O, what do we have here?”, she says to herself and flips the next page to see another name, Nightmare.

Giselle sighs, massaging her temples. There's no other way she could survive this, so she shuts her textbook, organized her writing materials inside her pencil cases, and placed it all inside her bag. Giselle pulled her iced coffee and started sipping on it. She runs her finger on the leaked water from her cold cup. "No, I don't believe in them. We're no longer twelve," Giselle ridicules, rolling her eyes in absurdity. Her eyes trailed to her surroundings while Yvonne began to tackle more about bloodsucking demons until Giselle found something that caught her attention. Mr. Mercado placed newly made tiramisu crepe cake, the ones that she loves.

she bent over the tape and swallowed as she walked into the camp ground, she could hear nothing but crickets, the squeaking sound of squirrels and somehow the creepy sound of night. She got to a point where she had to use her flash light, she turned on her phone flash light and kept checking the cabin at which the campers slept. Some of their stuff was still there except for the dried blood everywhere and maybe a little skin accompanied with rotten smells and the smell of blood.

Maybe it all came from the lingering frustration about every little thing since my little family reunion at school. I tried not to think about it. Or anything else in particular but as you know it’s quite hard to keep your mind blank, so yeah, not much luck. I switched on the lamp beside my bed taking out my Creatures of the Moon book, I was reading something about Wendigos the last time if I could recall well. Vicious creatures, I tell you. These were the true creatures of the night. More deadly than vampires in my opinion. I sighed through the pages buying out time, as the minutes whisked away.

But his Charger was his baby, just like my Harley was mine. I took the lead and River rode beside me, while Cruz followed us. So far, I didn't see any members of Nightshade or anything suspicious, but that wasn't to say that the threat wasn't there. But it was late, and Nightshade had probably finished patrolling for the night. One could only hope. But I refused to live my life in fear. We made a left turn, and the night was gorgeous. Hot already, even though it was nice. But wolf-shifters didn't feel the heat or the cold like humans. The stars were out, but the moon wouldn't be out again until the Summer Solstice in June.

SARAH'S POV I sat there in the cold dark alley for quite a while and not even a rat passed by, I was starting to get scared when I heard faint laughter, more like a chuckle from afar. The sound became louder and clearer. It was no longer just the sound of laughter, I could now hear footsteps approaching. The closer they came the clearer their voices, they sound like nice people, I should probably ask them for help. What will I say though, I can't possibly tell them that I'm a vampire princess who came here through a porthole and woke up, then blacked out, then woke up again in a place where I was stabbed with needles and driven away by the smell of blood and somehow ended up here with no one

Through winding paths and across the marsh flats they trailed them, until the dark shapes of tents and timber walls emerged from the night—the Dreadmaw camp. The stench hit first. Smoke, blood, and rot woven together, undercut by the musk of too many wolves crowded in one place. Inside the camp, firepits glowed, throwing red light on crude wooden palisades. Some of the Dreadmaws were sprawled in drunken feasts, tearing flesh from a deer’s carcass with bare hands. Others sparred with steel and claw, their snarls echoing into the trees. From their perch atop the wall’s edge, Kael and Fenrak crouched low, unseen.

Only two are left, facing each other in the coming dawn. Heaps of creatures litter this burned, bloodied ground, none alive. Continue reading... Jonny Angel Oct 2013 Once, I Drove with a Werewolf in Georgia (A Reminisce) It was a magical summer. Lodi blared as fireflies glowed, leaves fluttered in the pure winds of those cool Georgian nights. We scared them foxes something good. You were classic in your favorite auto. They peed in their pants seeing a werewolf and me

The air filled with a low‚ hungry growl. "Wendigos‚" Zara whispered‚ her voice cold. "They won’t stop until they’ve feasted on your fear.". Jake’s wolf snarled‚ yellow eyes blazing. Sharon’s hands clenched‚ her power stirring like a storm inside her. This time‚ she vowed ‚ she wouldn’t let fear win. This time ‚ she would fight back.

“Once. And for all.” (Witch’s POV – Lena) The camp had gone quiet. Only the distant crunch of patrol boots over gravel broke the stillness. In my tent, the air was thick with sage smoke, curling in silver threads toward the low lantern glow. My sisters sat across from me, their faces pale in the flickering light. Nora spread a worn leather-bound book on the table between us, its spine cracked, pages edged with soot from gods-knew-how-many other battles. “This thing isn’t just feeding,” she whispered. “It’s tethered. Something or someone is anchoring it here.”