Hellhound Description Novels & Stories

With something feral and electric humming under my skin. Another growl sounded deeper, commanding. The wolves froze. A figure stepped from the shadows. Not a wolf. Not entirely human either. He stood tall, broad-shouldered, his eyes a molten gold that pinned me in place. His presence pressed down on the clearing like gravity itself. The other wolves lowered their heads instinctively. A rogue, my mind whispered, though I had no idea how I knew. He looked at me the way a hunter looks at prey and then the way a man looks at something that shouldn’t exist.

Everything else basically sat in the middle of the spectrum. I brought the rim to my lips and tipped the contents back. The blood washed over my taste buds which had an immediate groan of pleasure sounding through the room. Hellhound blood was the most unique type of blood I had ever tasted. It offered sweet notes when it lingered on the tongue but instantly shifted to a burning sensation when it hit the back of my throat and entered my stomach. A Hellhound was essentially made of fire, hence, their blood carried the burning attribute of fire. It was similar to alcohol, except, it didn't intoxicate me.

The thick, heat-shielded blast doors of the pod blew outward, tumbling across the ruined road. A thick, viscous green gel spilled from the pod, pooling on the hot asphalt. And then, the Hound stepped out. It was a nightmare sculpted from human DNA. It stood nearly eight feet tall, its musculature grotesquely swollen and hyper-dense. Its skin was not flesh, but a overlapping lattice of pale, bone-white cartilage and dark, metallic scales. It had no eyes, only a smooth, sloping dome of thick bone protecting its brain. Deep, jagged gill-like slits lined its neck, flaring aggressively as it processed the chemical and thermal signatures of the air.

The words erupted from my chest in an intense, predatory roar. But her scent had vanished. Rain began to pour, interfering with any chance of tracking her trail. When I caught the smell of danger nearby, my fur bristled. I closed my eyes and heightened my Lupine instincts. There were rogue wolves lurking within the forest. More than that—there was a dangerous creature, one of Nocturnus’s lackeys, his guardian who hunted whenever his master unleashed him: a three-headed Cerberus, better known among humans as a hellhound.

The hunt was far from over. Hound, a hellhound in form and power, burned with an unearthly heat that sparked fear in all who saw him. A relentless predator, gifted with a sight that saw all, yet chained by the frailties of his human body. Without hesitation, he charged toward the Seer, his eyes devoid of any humanity, only the cold hunger of a predator. Silver smoke trailed behind his piercing gaze, his ink-black skin radiating deadly heat as he closed in on his target.

I’m five foot ten. He whines and grumbles, and I stroke his massive head. “Yes, I know. She is ok,” I say to him and he huffs before he stands and moves to sit in between my legs. The Hellhounds can take down a wolf with ease. Their bites have the sting of icy death and they secrete venom that can kill a werewolf. Fortunately, they are extremely loyal creatures. Destinee has Anubis and I have always had Set. But he can’t swim in the depths, so Gaia has been keeping him for me.

Well, I'm not bragging but when it comes to good looks his shithead is nothing compared to my ass, I mean how much more if it was my face as a basis of comparison? I don't know what it is but for some reason, I felt a sense of responsibility to the poor innocent lives, so I snap my fingers and summon my hellhounds. They are my loyal pets. They have this mangled black fur, glowing red eyes, super strength and speed, and ghostly or phantom characteristics. Pretty cool isn’t it? With a simple snap of fingers and a distinct whistle, they instantly come to me and for more than a century of having them as my pet, just now I realized that they all have a foul odor, so disgusting I can't bear to get

“Great, now you sound like our trainers.” “There’s a difference, though. We grew up with each other. The guy with the gut wound could be my brother or my cousin, my best friend. Get the idea?” “So, who are these Hell Hounds to you then? So that we know.” “Aria Redgrave. First cousin and a couple of years younger than I am. She’s the computer expert I was talking about, Hal. Please don’t get on her nasty side, or she will waste your time with so much computer nastiness your head will spin. Then we have Devine Kelos. She’s relatively new to our team, but she’s got a nose that can hunt anyone or anything down in a blink of an eye. It’s scary to watch Hilda play a game with Devine. Hunt for the

I scooped up a fallen branch, as it was the only weapon available, and held it high. “Shoo, go away,” I said, brandishing the large stick. Another round of growls and snarls filled the air. I was in deep shit. Spinning in a slow circle, I kept my attention on the creatures as more and more glowing eyes appeared through the fog and trees. One of them advanced, stepping into a beam of moonlight. My breath hitched. It was massive, like a wolf shifter, covered in reddish-black fur with a row of spikes along its spine. Saliva dripped from its mouth. The crimson glowing pupils flickered as if made of flame. A single word popped into my mind—Hellhounds.