Gnawsher Lair Novels & Stories

only the desperate used, a place where the ceiling lights didn't reach and the shadows had teeth. They scrambled up a rickety wooden ladder, the wood groaning under their weight. Below them, Gnash skidded to a halt, looking up with a grimace. He wasn't a climber, but he was a tracker. He pulled a small mechanical spider from his pocket and whispered a command into its gears. The spider’s eyes glowed red, and it began to scale the wall with terrifying efficiency. "He’s got a drone-construct!" Anna hissed, her blue eyes flashing.

The wind swooshes around them and they have a feeling that they are being watched. “Lavi, you are not using your powers, right?” Thena squeaks. “No…” They hear a low rumble and a slow, slithery movement. Lavi studies the quiet desert which lies ahead of them. Something is not right… Suddenly, the ground shakes and a large hole appears in the middle of the sandy landscape. Lavi watches in shock as a large worm wriggles out of the ground, its mouth widening to reveal a cave-like opening filled with sharp, poisonous canines.

I pulled on the handle, and to my surprise, a section of the floor opened up, revealing a set of stairs leading to a secret room. I cautiously descended the stairs, my heart pounding with anticipation. As I reached the bottom, I found myself in a large underground room, dimly lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. I could see that the room was lined with cages, and my heart sank as I saw that it was filled with werewolves, including Nikau.

The smell is iron, scorched and old. Every time they shift, I laugh. --- The sound rolls through the cavern, too big for the walls. Shadows stir and flock closer, eager to belong to me. They are not afraid of my laugh. They were born in it. They coil at my ankles, curl around my chest, whisper my name without mouths. Skulls litter the floor—bone blackened to stone, jaws loose and eager. When I laugh, they chatter, a thousand broken teeth applauding. When I breathe, they inhale with me, sockets flickering faint fire.

What continued on its back was a tail, which it uses to lunge at the young girls, both falling to the side, before turning towards me and throwing a straight paw around my neck. Sassa growls down the base, then, at that moment, bounces off the table and searches briefly before running toward the entrance. I shit myself on the ground, unable to stand up or move a solitary muscle, not watching as she figures out how to get past the mountain rowan obstruction with almost no problem. "She wasn't a werewolf!" Gabriel yells, annoyed. "It's a kanima ," he 's just stunned. "Try not to tell me, Sherlock," Justin spits through his teeth, glancing at me with a combination of inconvenience and depressio

He sniffed about the heavily thumbed-through Succubus magazines. “Squeaker, no!” I tried to fish him from the piles. He darted away. Squeaker began chewing on the cellar door. “Vermin,” the knocker snarled. “If I were out of this damnable contraption, I would eviscerate you to bits. I am Lionheart! The guardian of the underworld! Not a rat's chew toy.” He let out a plaintive roar. “Shut up,” I snapped. “Someone will notice a roaring car.”

I follow. Her scent is stronger now—either I’m getting close to her or she was just distressed when she ran by here and giving off more aroma. Possibly both. There’s excitement in the air, too. The wolves think they are about to catch her. Maybe they are. Maybe I’m wasting my time. And then— I skid to a halt. I’m at the top of the stairs that lead down to the underground tunnels beneath the city. The tunnels that used to play host to commuter trains, that are now the home of the hives of Ravagers.

"It's the only way to drive the Sucrose Zombies away." Lia nodded. He started swinging his crowbar against the wall. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! The sound of metal slamming into concrete echoed through the narrow tunnel. Dust rained down, and the cracks in the wall grew wider. "Hurry, Lia!" Bima urged. Suddenly, from the darkness ahead, came a rapid scratching sound. Then glowing red eyes, dozens of tiny points, emerged from the gloom. Shadow Crawlers. "Damn it! They're coming!" Bima growled, gripping his flare gun.

"Now start talking, or lose it." Sweat poured down the elf's body as he struggled to find his voice. "All I can tell you is that in the past, Garnarld always had an underground lair with a cell he could use to trap lesser werewolves. Ferals or not." She frowned. "Why would he trap werewolves?" "You can make a fortune in ransom if you find wolves with packs or families who are willing to pay to get them back." "Hell. Seriously? I didn't know that." She shook her head in disgust. There should be an open season on demons. "Would this cell be strong enough to hold an alpha werewolf?"