Grotesque Novels & Stories

The battle was about to begin. From the shadows, they emerged – creatures born of nightmare, twisted parodies of nature itself. They were grotesque, their bodies a horrifying fusion of flesh and shadow, their movements jerky and unnatural. Some were vaguely humanoid, their limbs elongated and twisted, their skin a sickly, pallid green. Others were more monstrous, hulking behemoths with razor-sharp claws and teeth that dripped with a viscous, black ichor. They were the remnants of the ancient entity’s corruption, its failed creations, driven by a mindless rage and a thirst for destruction.

Simply watching him get hurt, unable to do anything to help, was one of the hardest things I've ever had to endure. He is now facing the beast head-on, the creature's guttural breathing echoing loudly in the tense forest as Ashton grits his teeth, gripping his blood-stained blade tightly. My hand clenches around the fabric of my dress, feeling the smooth material under my grasp. Suddenly, the Grotesque charges forward, lowering its massive, twisted horns and smashing into Ashton with a thunderous impact, forcing him against a rough tree trunk.

Everything turned dark and silent. *********

I am not a monster, I am not a monster, I might be a slutty traitor, but I am not a monster. On the way to Mr. Ross' surprisingly cool apartment. Rene told me that Mr. Ross has been doing research about werewolves and vampires and he found a lot of things. He wanted to call Rene to tell her but he wasn't sure so he decided to do more research to be positive about what he found. Now he's sure, he's confident this time.

Sharriah asked, looking at the Skeletons, which had come to obstruct their path, stopping them from traveling. "They are called a Gashadokuros, not every one knows of it. A Gashadokuro is a huge skeleton created from amassed bones of people who died of starvation or in battle. They are fifteen times larger than humans and roam the night or early day break looking for lone travelers to eat." Philip said,

I muttered to myself. "Yes, for example, a half werewolf half Vampire is known as an abomination or anything that's not a full blooded Vamp, I've never managed to see one but was told it has happened before. In which case they need to be killed. They think just like a rogue and is even more powerful. Vampire's and werewolf clash a lot and hate each other's gut so sleeping with either is seen as unforgivable. I'm sorry if I'm scaring you." I sighed learning so much from our little time outside.

“Whatever you call it here. A place to kip.” “Over there,” she pointed toward the city center where the dark windows of granite-clad towers frowned at the wide boulevards lined with bare black trees. Many of the towers were abandoned, infested by the Enemy who wove its cocoons in the stuffy dark. There they were hatching new generations of shape-shifting oborotni, of brutal kulaki or Fists, named so because their faces were giant clenched fists, of wily kosmopolity or Kosmops, whose beguiling squeaks grew louder as their stature diminished in their successive generations—the latest brood were the size of rats—and worst of all, krovososy, the crawling vampires whose human bodies had degenerat

Spiderweb cracks splintered through the solid ground, fracturing the flat land as if an earthquake had swept through. Through his eyes, I saw mangled corpses strewn about. Some half-buried under a rock, others stacked together in a heap. The stench of blood was so thick, it made us dizzy. “My, my, my…and look who we have here.” A slow, guttural voice sounded from the side. We turned and gaped. Ugly. That’s the first thought that popped into my mind. The thing sauntering towards us was so hideous, it couldn’t be described as human or wolf. For starters, it was too tall and bulky to fit either category. Then there was the fur.

Their entire bodies were twisted into darkness, beasts made of shadow and hate. My eyes traced the outline of its grotesque form, its black flesh a stark contrast against the scarlet-tinted earth. Its mouth gaped open in a still snarl, revealing fangs jagged and turned outward—a cruel perversion of what a wolf should be. Entropy hung in the air around it, a reminder that something so twisted had once lived and fought.

The figure in front of her was more frightening than the ones that were circling them previously. Picture a towering, monstrous humanoid figure with grotesque, elongated limbs covered in writhing, sinewy tendrils and tentacles, standing there in place of Xen. Its body was a nightmarish fusion of twisted flesh and dark, slimy appendages, giving it an unsettling appearance. The tendrils writhed and reached out in all directions, adding to the aura of dread and horror. His face, if one could call it that anymore, was a nightmarish visage of contorted features and malevolence.