Gothic Oc Novels & Stories

Then, with a mixture of scoff and chuckle, he said, “One original vampire and one original lycan. Was this Goethe’s plan all along?” “Who is Goethe?” Oscar asked. Rowan gave a questioning look as he asked, “Have you no education on our roots?” When Oscar gave a chagrinned shake of his head, he said, “This must be rectified.” “Will Cerie’s magic extend your life?” Oscar asked. “I expect so,” Rowan said as he stood and untied his robe’s belt so that it fell open to expose his hardened manhood. “If it doesn’t, I’ll go feeling the best I’ve ever felt. This magic is dangerously addictive.”

“The owner… he’s not like the others.” I turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “A jerk? An egotistical narcissist?” I half-joked, trying to break the tension. But Chloe didn’t laugh. Instead, she shivered slightly, the smile fading from her face. "He's... odd. And deadly. No one really sees him during the day. He’s a nightwalker." Her voice faltered on the last word. “He’s got a scar across his face. No one knows how he got it, but people say it’s the least dangerous thing about him.”

But destiny had other plans for me. After my last class, I found myself alone in a classroom, searching for a lost textbook. It was there that I bumped into my ex, Mason. Our breakup had been far from amicable, and the tension between us was palpable. He leered at me, moving closer, his intentions clear. My heart raced as he tried to force a kiss, his grip on my arm growing tighter. Panic surged through me, but then something inexplicable occurred. I felt a searing pain in my head as Mason slammed me against a desk. When I managed to focus, terror gripped my heart. Mason's eyes had turned a pitch-black, devoid of any humanity. His shadow was missing, leaving an eerie emptiness at his feet.

The sound that leaves Osric is bone chilling, his lycan form is terrifying, built out of pure muscle, with fur so black it’s like he is made of darkness. “Raven focus! This isn’t over!” Embry screams at me, while knocking a vampire away from me, as I stand frozen, watching Jonathan’s body falling onto the blood-soaked grass the moment Osric and Orin collide. Watching them collide is like watching a bomb go off, releasing a shock wave that knocks every nearby fighter back a few feet. “No, this can’t be real,” I sob, pulling myself up I run to my mate’s body laying on the frozen ground, staring up at the moon with vacant eyes.

I spin around in terror as the prince tugs at the door at my back. “Where’s the key?” Prince Owen demands, but Gregor is already sprinting for me. I cower, sinking in terror to the floor against the door. When Gregor comes to a startling halt right in front of me, I look overhead where Prince Owen has reached through the bars, his long, elegant fingers wrapped around Gregor’s throat. With a quick adjustment of the prince’s hands, he snaps Gregor’s neck, and the repulsive Omega’s corpse falls on top of me.

Twenty-six, with a curvy body she usually hid under oversized sweaters, soft pale skin, and long auburn hair that fell in waves down her back, she lived alone in her grandmother’s old Victorian house on the outskirts of town. Tonight, bored and a little tipsy from red wine, she’d found the old leather-bound book. Ars Goetia scrawled on the cover in faded gold. Flipping through it for fun, she’d traced a strange sigil with her finger while muttering the Latin words under her breath, thinking it was all ridiculous nonsense. The candles flickered violently. The air grew thick, heavy with the scent of smoke and something darker, sulfur and sweet musk. A low chuckle echoed through the room.

My head grazes the ceiling to the point where I have to bend over to be more comfortable. I reach up to touch my snout, letting out a growl instead of a gasp when I find it longer. Longer than normal. Slowly, on unsteady massive feet I turn towards the mirror hung on the wall in the sitting room. A massive Silver furred Lycan stares at me, its eyes filled with horror. As the lowest Ranking Omega, I have never had the chance of travelling out and meeting other children of the goddess. So my knowledge of Lycantropy comes from books.

He stormed into the darkness, his silver-grey eyes already glowing with a blinding, predatory white light. At the back of the bakery, the heavy steel security door was halfway open, throwing a long, rectangular slice of yellow light across the wet gravel of the alley. Oscar Wayne was standing right under the lightbulb, his hands resting calmly on his hips. He had already shed his heavy leather jacket, wearing only a tight black t-shirt that showcased his massive, muscular frame. He had known Duncan was coming. An Alpha of Oscar’s caliber could smell the supreme rage approaching from miles away. Amora was standing just inside the doorway, her face pale but her expression furious as she saw Du

This pull is strange, scary but amazing. The problem now is, how do I keep the most stubborn Vampire to ever exist safe without having a fight with her?

The atmosphere was suffocating, heavy with despair and hatred. In front of the gates, three powerful creatures stood out. To the right, a white Lycan with golden tips in his fur and eyes red as embers. At the center, a witch with flaming hair and shimmering purple eyes. To the left, a great Dracula, with prominent fangs and eyes as black as the night. On the ground, drawn in blood, mystical symbols formed a circle. At the center of that circle, a baby lay wrapped in a cloak adorned with enigmatic engravings. The little one cried in despair as a dagger hovered menacingly above him.