Hannibal Lecter Vs Dexter Morgan Novels & Stories

He frantically touched his face, now a grotesque puddle of melted features. In the midst of the chaotic scene, Dexter, the cunning and ruthless predator, identified an opening and seized the opportunity to strike. With lightning-fast reflexes, he thrust his razor-sharp claws deep into the executioner's chest, tearing through flesh and bone alike until he located his target: the heart that sustained his foe's life force. With a savage grunt, Dexter ripped the heart from its moorings, holding it aloft as he let out a triumphant roar, signaling his brutal victory.

Morgan placed a hand on my shoulder and I nodded. “I don’t understand how not even a hair is out of place. It’s seriously disconcerting.” Morgan laughed but we both turned when the door opened. Hector walked through, his duffle bag still on his shoulder. He dropped it on the ground and rolled his shoulders. “How about a go at me, old man?” Rolling his eyes, Morgan picked up his one sword. “Raring to go just when you get home?”

The halls are eerily quiet; the only sound is my heels against the cold tile. Dr Brendan comes out as he looks at me and to Damien. Dr Brendan is a general surgeon, he is tasked with many different roles within the hospital. He has experience in many different subjects. I dare say my grandfather was the best in our world and Dr Brendan was next after him. “Alpha, unfortunately, Miss Morgan has a rare blood group. We don’t have that blood here and by the time we get it sent from another pack, I’m afraid it would be too late.” Dr Brendan looks at me with sadness, knowing I am going to be sacrificed to save her.

I warned, “just tell me who sent you, and I might just change my mind and only imprison you instead of bathing this soil with your blood.” I should have expected less from a rogue. They were lawless creatures. Wild and relentless. This one in front of me had no exemption. He didn’t bother to consider my offer to spare his life. He pounced quickly, aiming for the unconscious pup on the ground. And just then, we lost it. Dexter moved, fluidly and aggressively, taking a forceful strike at the rogue’s vulnerable throat. With the blinking of an eye, we clawed out his throat in a single strike.

A deep-rooted desire was sown into their young hearts—to train to a high level, just like those beings that soared freely through the sky. The talented Alex quickly displayed outstanding aptitude in immortality arts. However, Dexter was different. His aptitude was not as exceptional as Alex's, and his achievements in immortality arts were not as remarkable. As time passed, the gap between them widened, and eventually, they became completely different individuals. Dexter, witnessing Alex becoming a formidable existence, felt a deep urgency. To catch up with Alex, he embarked on the irreversible path of the dark arts. On that path, Dexter transformed into a completely different person. To trai

He didn’t flinch, walking over to touch the woman’s neck. “She’s dead,” he said calmly, as if it meant nothing. Morgan, on the other hand, had a hidden smile playing on his lips. Was I hallucinating? The Morgan I knew was usually scared shitless—how had he managed to kill her so decisively? My thoughts raced. “Where the hell is Hermosa!” I barked at Morgan. His face went dumbfounded. He had let her go again. I moved with lethal precision, Leo snapping out of control within me.

He hadn’t even replied to her texts. Natalie didn’t want to look at his twisted expression any longer and instead turned her gaze to Dexter, who lay unconscious on the hospital bed. Dexter didn’t look much like Layson—his features were softer, his expression calm even in sleep. Only his sharp brows and refined nose bore some resemblance to Mr. Norman.

His gorgeous black head was now bloodied, his tongue dangling from his open mouth. The crowd gasped in shock. Max gripped my hand. I saw Mr. Chadwick’s fists fold in rage. The Vandals nearby circled around him, almost protectively. Ryders circled Aston. In the room, testosterone brimmed. Tattooed bikers facing each other off. “Oh, I’m sorry, I heard you like to hunt and display your kills so I thought I could bring you a fresh head,” Dexter said. His eyes were wild and psychopathic.

Morgan murmured. “You almost did,” Daxen said, finally looking at him. “And don’t bother denying it. Chance’s report said your pulse was erratic and your blood pressure dropped after the extraction spell.” Morgan groaned. “Chance needs to mind his own business.” “He is your healer.” Daxen’s eyes narrowed. “I, however, am something else entirely.” Morgan’s breath faltered. The sentinel effect tugged at him, warm and sharp. Not overwhelming he had far better control now but present. Always present.

The only person who came close to torturing him was his late mother. Since then, Dexter has always getting everything he wanted. He breaks the law and gets away with it as though it's nobody's business. Not even his Father, George Cooper could march his energy. But tonight, Dexter met his match. He was defeated by a greater power he never even imagined his whole life. "Did you see what happened out there or was I dreaming?" Officer Lucas addressed the other policemen in his office shortly after they departed Dexter's cell. "Yes, we did sir. We all witnessed that happen out there. It's safe to say that Dexter is a torn in our flesh," Romeo admitted on behalf of other cops who were too scared