Haunting Their Asses Novels & Stories

“Come to the Den tomorrow. Do the pup thing. I’ll poke around, see if anyone’s been skulking with your tonka-thyme obsession. But Ashlyn—don’t go hunting ghosts alone. You’re too damn hardheaded to ask for backup, and that’s gonna bite you.” I smirked, sharp and reckless, turning toward the caravan. “If it bites, I’ll rip its throat out,” I tossed over my shoulder, as I walked away. The tonka-and-thyme scent was gone, but its echo lingered, a puzzle wrapped in moonlight, and I’d be damned if I didn’t chase it to the end.

Austin said gravely. Assassins were terrifying enough. But the endless stream of threats, like a swarm of locusts, was truly horrifying, filling him with a sense of dread, disgust, and helplessness.

I look out the window as Asa speeds down the road. I turn to look at him, his dark hair is messy atop his head and it makes him look extremely hot. I mentally scold myself that I'm not supposed to find him or his brother attractive. They are both assholes. Fucking dipshit murderers.

Oh yes, this would be fun. "You assholes are gonna pay!" A man screamed. I laughed darkly at them. Even to my own ears it sounded scary. But they hadn't seen anything yet. They hadn't seen what happens when two Assassins are kept from killing for so long, and what kind of monsters we could be.

The horror of their words clawed at my sanity. Distant voices clawed at the edges of my mind, their words searing into my consciousness... "I'll butcher your damn child and make you watch every second!" "I’ll tear it apart and send the pieces for DNA testing." "Whose bastard is this? There's no record of him anywhere, the ghost doesn't exist!" "Now, you'll watch as your child bleeds out, right before your eyes."

Well hunt them down like the animals that they are. We'll make sure they feel the pain they've caused us. We'll kill them all, Ash! I promise you that. Just forfeit and come back to us. Then I see his aura flicker and my heart sinks. Ash please! “....” silence. Ash? Ash!

The hooded man lost himself in the twisted dance of power and suffering, their intertwined bodies tangoing through a hellish waltz of torment. As ashes of remorse settled within the hooded man's soul, he took a step back, his chest heaving with exertion. The chamber of horrors now bore witness to the aftermath of their macabre encounter. Asher, broken and bloodied, hung from the unforgiving chains, his gaze vacant, his spirit crushed.

"A monster with items? And they're SSS items?" They stared at me like starving wolves eyeing fresh meat. Every single one of them wanted what I had. They just hadn't expected how many items I was carrying. Instead of robbing me, some of them ended up badly injured. Others died on the spot. Fear slowly crept into their eyes. A few of them even began to beg. When I hesitated, one player suddenly dropped his scared act, and his eyes lit up with arrogance. "You're done, you tramp! Big V is coming. He'll take care of you!"

Azazel received a ping on his phone as soon as Han’s words left his mouth. “Come alone, Azazel,” Hans taunted, his voice laced with a deranged glee. “I know you know the truth about everything. They call you the destroyer in the underworld, don’t they? Let us see how much of a destroyer you are. Come and get your Athena, or else,” he chuckled maniacally, reveling in the havoc he anticipated to unleash.

“Do you feel that?” I look back at him and nod my head and try to take a few more steps. It’s nearly impossible to take a walk. It almost feels like I’m wading through quicksand. Azazel struggles as well and says with a concerned frown. “Be careful, mate. This feels like some kind of trap. This place is definitely bewitched.”