Gothic Words Novels & Stories

And those emerald eyes, so captivating and mesmerizing, were the windows to a soul steeped in darkness. Their voices, a duet of wickedness, resonated in the room. Each word carried a weight, a potent force that wove through the very fabric of their surroundings. The air crackled with an energy that was palpable, charged with anticipation, as if the very walls themselves listened intently to their sinister exchange.

The witches, their voices harmonizing in an ancient language, created a melodic cacophony that seemed to resonate with the very essence of the night. Their words were a tapestry of power and mysticism, weaving through the air like ethereal threads. "Mystica et verita, vocem nobis cedo! Mystica et verita, arcanum revelo!" they chanted, their voices rising and falling in a haunting melody. Each syllable seemed to vibrate with an energy that sent shivers down my spine.

"Jackie kindly came to check on you, but you repaid his kindness with evil! You're beyond saving!" They hurried away surrounding Jackie, their faces filled with grief. The storeroom door was slammed shut and locked again.

One could not deny the dark power that resonated from these stone walls and the carvings that were etched onto its surfaces. I had spent months restoring these walls, making sure that every crack was filled and every carving was restored. This was a place of magic, one that must have been used by the witches of old in their pursuit of power. The language carved into the stone was unrecognizable, save for one word. Sanguinem: blood. So I fed blood to the basin, and it answered with passion and hunger as it did now once again with its fifth offering. The offered blood began to bubble and boil until it convulsed into a swirling mass of crimson smoke that hung in the air.

The thought of my sister Wilma being in some sort of trouble made me quicken my pace. During class hours, the grounds of Acadia Academy are empty, leaving one to appreciate the beauty and magnificence of its ancient architecture. All of it was like a lonely gothic castle; a very old, marvelous work of architecture that once used to be a cathedral –Dracula’s fortress if you may, just with the exception of the bats. There are pointed arches, stained glass windows, and ribbed vaulting in the commons room, the assembly room, the main library, the cafeteria, and the hallways. The outward structure boasted flying buttresses and gothic spires with two large stone gargoyles guarding the front gates.

Scribbled all over the cheap paneled walls, along with words which sounded hauntingly familiar but strange at the same time: Lake Hyades . a lake in which hideous, rubbery yellow things thrashed . . . Crawling Chaos, Nyarlathotep, Hali. Words I recognized dimly from history lessons: Crotoan, Roanoke. Written there several times was the name of that place I supposedly took Mystery Philosophical guy, Carcosa. Also, Assatur, Xastur, H’aaztre, Hastur . . . Lt. Hastoor

Ineffable - Utterly indescribable, too scared to be speak of. Vorfreude - the joyful, intense anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures. Ataraxia - A state of emotional freedom and tranquility, the sensation of calmness and peace of mind. Lacuna - A blank space; a missing part. Absquatulate - Leave abruptly; to leave without saying goodbye. Nepenthe - Something that makes you forget grief or suffering. Quietus - An End or Death. Hiraeth - A homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was.

I mutter sullenly Just when I thought all would be done by summoning a demon… Zen goes off to take a bath, while I settle to read the heavy book. It’s a history of the Empire of Greten, written in the most boring way possible. Most of the words are easy to read, but I stumble on several. The letters are English, but I have no clue how to pronounce these words or what they mean. Crap. What kind of scholar doesn’t know how to pronounce ‘facetious’? What does that even mean?!

Actually she never liked excessive interactions with other people. "You can see over there is the library. Over there, the Witch class. The moss green building is Sirens class. Well, next to it is the Vampire class. Then ...." Louisa explained all details of the existing buildings inside the Gothic Academy, while Lyla listened lazily. "Over there, the mixed class. It is held once a week." Louisa continued.

“My father used to rap me over the knuckles if I didn’t write neatly.” A melancholy smile plays over my mate’s lips as he reaches for my notepad and pen. He compares my inept translations to his own. “These are recipes for potions that kill various creatures. Vampires, nymphs, werewolves, Lycans-” he looks up at me – “this word-” he points to something that I couldn’t find in any of the dictionaries I’ve tried -“doesn’t translate as demon, it translates to she-dragon.” “What? Seriously? There were dragons?”