Fictional Owls Novels & Stories

She left and locked the door behind her. Felicia huffed, staring at the door. She didn’t go to the kitchen and went into her bedroom. Locking it, she walked into the closet. She tapped on the wall and it opened to a different place. There it was, the owl sitting in a cage. Thin. Its wings are broken. Its big eyes were sullen. Felicia chuckled devilishly, “don’t look at me like that. You are mine now.” The owl looked down, submitting to her.

Part One: Eyes of the Wolf Jamie Dalton lifted the grocery bag filled with Halloween candy and took a moment to inhale the aroma drifting from it. For most people Christmas was their favorite holiday but Jamie had always loved Halloween. From the time she was nine years old she made up fanciful stories about the night, stories of goblins and ghosts and all manner of creatures. As she got older the stories became more intricate, the characters more detailed. By the time she was an adult she was weaving in erotic scenes and drooling over the heroines she created.

THIRD PERSON’S POV ‘I heard that you failed this time Cecilia!’ Man seated on a couch with one hand resting on the back of the couch and one hand was swirling the scotch in the glass, while his yellowish and lifeless eyes were fixed on three witches. Cecilia, the leader of the witched gulped quietly. Though she was considered as the most powerful witch in their coven she feared this man, the only wolf who was able to make her shudder with one stare only.

Blood-streaked tendrils of hair laid on the top of its gray skull. I stared in horror, my mouth parting at the sight of what stood in front of me. And I thought what I saw at the grey building couldn't get any worst. This was unnerving. It resembled a wolven. A dead wolven that had been woken from death. Somehow, that was worse than seeing something that was half horse. “Don't move Oliver.” I heard Arias say again. My entire being went still, the hair right in front of my face, the only thing moving.

Jamal’s POV The message from the owl arrived under the cloak of night, a messenger of the unseen realms. Its white feathers glowed in the moonlight, and in its beak, it carried a small vial—a vessel containing an otherworldly concoction. The air crackled with arcane energy as the owl descended, talons gripping the edge of my windowsill.