Feral Hearts Game Novels & Stories

"Aim for the neck, cut it off and destroy the brain." Not wanting to cut the neck to end this session too soon. I then aim for the heart. You need to make a plan when going for the heart. It's the only way to release the original host soul. Although the heart is protected, only the front blocks the attacks. But ferals are aware of it, and marking the hit will make them guard it at all costs. So, you must be wise and precise when stabbing the heart from the back. I spin and jump on its back, pinning him to the ground. "Here, since the front is too hard to destroy the heart. You stab the heart on its back." I instruct.

They were pale, hairless, and their limbs were grotesquely elongated, allowing them to scramble across the rusted pipes like spiders. “Jinx, we have hostiles,” Leo whispered into his comms. “Multiple ferals. They’re blocking the access shaft to the Umbilical.” “Ren is engaging enemies in the digital dungeon, Leo,” Kara’s voice replied in his ear. “You need to clear that room, or you’ll fall behind the timeline.” Leo racked the bolt of his LMG. He looked back at Torque and the Ironheads. "Tight formation. Nobody plays hero. Stay behind my armor."

“Our hearts aren’t red. They’re not hearts of happiness.” Then, without hesitation, they opened their own chests revealing cold, dead hearts, black as coal. Because in the end, most players had only pretended to care. Fear, dread, and survival instinct had tainted everything. And so, no one else had earned a truly happy ending.

I pulled Ethan into my arms and whispered reassurance. Ethan was born with a congenital heart condition, so the slightest emotional distress could be fatal. Yet, there was an incident today. I examined Ethan from head to toe. Only when I was certain he hadn’t been hurt and was no longer in shock did I heave relief. “Silas, how could you be so vile? “I can’t believe you hurt my baby girl!” Andrew shot me an accusatory look, his gaze burning with rage. His loud voice attracted a crowd.

even was. It told me: [Conditions unmet. Mission will initiate upon sufficient capability and target reacquisition. Program will remain active until completion.] Because it had no emotions, it gave me books—endless books—to study. I crouched in front of her, the hatred in my eyes no longer hidden. "I wanted you dead. How could I ever fall in love with you?" With that, I got on my bike and sped off. The private investigator, Callum Vance, whom I hired also sent me good news.

Still chose the bond without hesitation. Alessandro would never understand that. To him, bonds were leverage. Tools. Weaknesses to exploit. To us, they were survival. The wards hummed louder, reacting to the emotional surge in the room. My wolf reared up, snarling, throwing itself against the suppression with renewed fury. I forced myself to breathe. Slow. Controlled. If Alessandro was listening, and I was certain he was, I couldn’t let him see this realisation take shape yet. I couldn’t let him know I had finally seen the game for what it was. Because once he knew that I knew, the next move would be worse.

Black wax. No crest. Edgar took it. Broke it. Unrolled the parchment. I watched his face as he read. Still. Then colder. “What is it?” I asked. He handed it to me. Three lines. You guard the mountains. We take the valley. Choose which burns next. I folded the parchment once. Twice. “They’re splitting pressure,” I said. “Forcing you to choose which people you save.” “Yes.” “Classic overextension trap.” “Yes.” He looked out beyond the walls toward the distant smoke that still marked the attacked village.

★★★ FERAL FURY PACK ★★★ Lucifer got ready and left the mansion. This time, he used his car, speeding through the winding roads that led to the Pack’s territory. The Festival of Maidens was a grand event, and although he wasn’t particularly interested, the urgency in his mother’s voice had convinced him to attend.

He was running toward the woman in the red coat who was screaming his name in the acid rain. I sat on the throne, my torso splitting open, my marrow boiling. I watched through the security feed as the Unlearned in the loading bay began to stir. They heard the 'Mother' calling. They heard the distress of the Queen. The feral scavengers began to howl, a discordant, terrifying sound of confusion and hunger. They weren't kneeling anymore. They were looking at the dome with yellowed, silver-burned eyes, their instincts telling them that the sanctuary was a lie.

Seeing their situation, the four of them panicked. “What are you doing?” “F*ck! Come out if you have the guts, you pervert.” Jack’s voice sounded in the darkness. “The name of this game is called the killing game. It’s specially designed for you! The game is very simple. Your hands are bound by the iron rings. If you want to escape, you have to pull the device in the middle of the iron rings. The iron hooks on the top will pierce your skin. When your palms break free from the iron rings, the iron hooks will pierce through your collarbones. Of course, you have other ways to escape. This is also the highlight of the night.”