Hallowed Fantasy Novels & Stories

“Are you under attack, Fran?” I was able to mirror his smile. “I think we can say so, yeah.” The waiter brought the bill and Harry handed him a black credit card. “How much? I mean, you need me to hold you, kiss you, just rest a casual hand on the small of your back?” “Grab me by the hand to leave.” “That’s subtle.” Harry chuckled softly. “Breathe, Fran. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Or a Haunter. The Haunter Supreme, to be accurate. I was still seeing him. And he was still staring at me, like wishing oh so bad his eyes were knives.

Yet another fantasy Prologue Legora, the largest capital city in the world. Once one of nine, now there are four. We had lost five cities in the great calamity. Creatures from god knows where poured in from a tear in the earth. A dimensional tear in space and time the men of science called it, but really who the fuck knows? All I know is they were bigger, stronger, looked nothing like us and they outnumbered us hundred to one.

“You shouldn’t, I should. I left home to be on the lookout for Danshak’s safety and that is exactly what I am going to do.” “Ugh!” Zorraya groaned as Erin began to run off toward the thick of the battle where their mates were fighting demonic creatures that were even more dangerous than anyone could fathom. “Wait!” She called out to Erin, running after her. ******** Even as the beasts dropped dead around him, Danshak could not shake the feeling that something was strangely wrong. The werewolves outnumbered Nikjin’s night creatures and they were fueled by rage and revenge, but it seemed a little too odd that as the beasts were dropping dead, more of their kind weren’t showing up to replace th

Their childhood sanctuary was gone. Where once the Hallowed Grove had crowned the mountaintop, ancient stones woven through with moonlit trees and wild blossoms, their laughter echoing through the glade, now only ruin remained. The mists that hung between worlds had grown heavy, silver thickening into dusk, erasing the borders between what was, what could have been, and what should have stayed buried. Even the roots here pulsed with something poisonous, the old oaks drooping as if the ground itself grieved.

I let a drop of blood fall on the mountaintop, and the infant spirits formed a line behind me. I gave the signal. "Tonight, we throw down with the enemies invading our turf!" The infant spirits buzzed like a swarm of angry bees. The Haunts had not shown up yet, but the wind was already messing with the folks on the street. One gust and poof! Their bones turned to dust. All that was left was a hollow shell with eyes wide open as they collapsed to the ground. More onlookers came, and the wind took them too. This time, not even the bone was left.

“How do you know that?” “I don’t know,” Rowan murmured. “I just do.” “She’s dreaming of us here,” Elara added. “But her dream is tangled with something else. Something dark.” As if summoned by her words, a sudden wind ripped through the clearing, tearing leaves into spirals. The white ash tree groaned, its branches twitching. Then movement. From behind the roots emerged figures. Not human. Not entirely. The Hollowed. But these were different from the ones they had battled before. These were older, their forms wreathed in smoke and fragments of shattered bone. Eyes of burning blue pierced through the fog. One of them stepped forward, its jaw split wide open like a cracked mask.

Instead, it folds itself into a corner near the fire, curling up like an animal seeking warmth, as if it is as weary as any of us. The hours crawl. Some try to sleep, but most sit up, tense, clutching talismans or one another’s hands. Mara prowls the edges of the hall, her gaze fixed on the revenant. I sit with Ffion, our shoulders touching, our magics twining and trembling. We ask our questions—careful, cautious, afraid of what the answers might cost. “What is the Hollowing?” Bram asks, voice barely above a whisper. The revenant’s eyes burn in the dark. “It is what comes when too many bargains go unpaid. When pain and hunger are ignored, when stories are broken, when communities shatter. I

Hallowmere was not a place; it was a memory rotting in real time, so the lycans teleported her there. The city welcomed them with a hush that felt alive, pressing against their skin like damp gauze soaked in old blood. Shattered stained glass littered the gutters like the remnants of a forgotten cathedral, while skeletal buildings loomed on either side of the street, leaning inward as though eager to hear secrets never meant to be spoken aloud. No birds flew overhead. Even the wind dared not howl.

Hadeon gripped his crimson and gold sword and with raging eyes slash a monster in half like a melted piece of butter. Hally, who is standing beside him, waved her staff, while forming a magic circuit. Before being the manager of the Deck Orders Guild's Human Resources, she was the rank 6th Challenger— the Goddess of Miracles, Harrella Washington. Despite her small built, young-looking face and distinct braided twin-tails. She is an unmovable force that single-handedly supported a hundred Challengers with her high-tier magic buff enchantments simultaneously. In a snap, multi-layered enchantments appeared below the offensive and defensive team boosting their firepower and defenses ten-fold.

"Then we need to hurry, I don't want to think anything has happened to Emily. May's voice was shaky and her heart filled with guilt. They turned to head back when the sound they had heard initially came louder suddenly, they reflexed a turn at the direction of the sound and had not gotten enough time to settle on it when a huge bird flew across them, pushing them to the ground. It went straight for Glenn, trailing it's thick claws against Glenn's body, ripping part of his shirt, he began struggling with the bird unable to get a full view of the creature above him, summer and May had tried crawling up to his aid but they had been hit the most when it flew across them, and for some strange rea