Gothic Words Novels & Stories

A pot of incense was burning in the center of the thrones and the skulls of different animals hung on every side of the walls as fresh blood seemed to be coming out of their mouths. The burning candles were Black. Brown. And white... In that order. But for all the candles that were burning, the white had the dimmest light. Alice turned around frantically again and she saw letters, drawings, and carvings on every side of the wall. The drawing was of wolves, men, and a queen while the carving was of objects like the moon, stars, fangs, birds, triangles, and stars. The letters on the walls were ancient Gothic. It reads...

Would it change the fact that they both fucked up bye the will of destiny? The world of Gothic is not that easy, many secrets are ready to be untold. Be ready. Be brave. The secrets of Gothic, what would it be? Are they ready to discover and get this out of the shed? So many untold questions to be reveal. What really happened, to the forgotten era? *** ©Skies Ambrielle

she exclaimed, her voice trembling with newfound hope. Dominic leaned closer, his brow furrowing as he examined the ancient text. "There are some runes here. I recognize their names, but the meanings… I don't know their meaning." Victoria pointed at the first rune, a twisted, jagged mark etched into the page. "This one’s called Mendacium," she said, her tone uncertain. "Then there's Dolor... followed by Odium, and finally, Peccatum."

Then I let my wolf’s strength flow through me again, gripping the lock and twisting until metal gave way with a soft crack. The room beyond was grand in a way that made the banquet hall look simple. Dark wood paneling covered the walls, carved with symbols I didn’t recognize. A massive bed dominated one side, its posts reaching toward a ceiling painted with scenes of hunts and battles. Candles burned in holders shaped like reaching hands, their flames casting dancing shadows. Heavy curtains blocked out the moonlight, making the space feel like a cave decorated by someone with too much money and too little humanity. Gothic. That was the word. Like stepping into a vampire’s chamber from old st

“Pain, betrayal, anger, hatred… love, lust, longing, deception… blood, forbidden, karma, death, darkness.” Each word fell like a blow, and my heart twisted with each one. The only glimmer of light was the mention of love, but I couldn’t even be sure it meant what I wanted it to. All those words, so ominous, so bleak. What did they mean for us, for Scarlett?

ROMAN. I’ve had plenty of nightmares in my life. Some common. Some downright terrifying. Even added up together didn’t come close to what we were facing right this moment. Rows after rows of demons who were staring at us like we were their next meal. Perhaps that was what they thought we’d become, but they were dead wrong. Context was important. So, a new phrase was needed. Their bodies were disgusting caricatures, more macabre than anything else. Don’t get me started on the stench. Goddess, it was overwhelming and one you would never forget. A mixture of sulfur, rot, and death.

Midnight in the modern metropolis carried with it a chill that no streetlamp or neon glow could dispel. Beyond the polished sidewalks and glass towers, hidden beneath layers of ancient stone, stood a sprawling Gothic palace: its spires carved with gargoyles that scowled into the darkness, its walls veined with moss and lit only by flickering torchlight. Inside this secret stronghold—the council hall of the vampire clans—the air was heavy with incense smoke and the slow, persistent drip of water from unseen fountains. Crimson draperies, brocaded with silver thread in patterns older than any human chronicle, framed tall, narrow windows that stared out like watchful eyes onto the sleeping city.

I want to rest, and I know that, like me, the echelons are resting now, as well as the Prince. The search was indeed dangerous; someone had died, fallen, perished, exited, been deceased, croaked, parted, passed away, suffered, endured sorrow, agony, misery, and ached in nerve-racking pain. But one had learned affection, fondness, passion, benevolence, and love, which ruled everything. and taught someone about being strong, brawny, stalwart, stout, dauntless, intrepid, courageous, bold, valiant, valorous, gallant, and brave.

He felt a chill go up his spine as he recognized them; those captivating green eyes, they did not belong to this woman. Alex glanced past her and toward the tomb. On the surface of the wall, he could make out a series of engravings. He read the first engraving curiously with narrowed eyes: WINTER’S BANE. The etchings just below it read: Natus Ex Tenebrae. Alex did not know what they translated to, but he recognized them to be Latin. The last engraving in the stone read: Praeco Deorum. The woman appeared to realize what was going on in his mind as she stepped between Alex and the strange engravings. “Do not stray from the path,” she said forebodingly.

CHAPTER FIVE Hansel & Gretel The room was several square feet, with walls made from red bricks dulled by tangled cobwebs. A mist of fine plaster dust was turned to glittering fire under the beam of Agnes’ torch. But the bright fog didn’t distract them from the bold, red and gothic lettering painted upon the back wall. The text stood out despite the gossamer veneer. In this place Guilt forges the script Making way For the Cryptic Crypt