Hellhound Description Novels & Stories

'Hellhound,' Philo howled out loudly. He should be going into complete defense mode but instead he was excited. Excited? I ran behind a tree once the loud yelling of the border patrol caught my ears. Quickly Orion and I redressed, jogging over to the scene. The scent was getting harder to ignore. Something about it was making my body giddy.

The dark hair on his chest was matted with the dirt of the ridge, his claws extending from his knuckles with a wet, heavy click. From the dense spruce forest behind the split boundary stone, the first of the invaders appeared. They were massive, twice the size of Silas’s timber wolves, their bodies wrapped in thick plates of dark iron that had been bolted directly into their flesh. These were the Iron Hounds, the selective breed of the Southern Council, raised in dark caves and fed on nothing but raw meat and sulfur to make them hate their own kind. Their eyes were bloodshot and wild, their jaws fitted with steel muzzle guards that had been sharpened to razor edges.

That meant getting down to our latest problems. Quade had contacted a Hellhound he knew. The way hellhounds were created was rather a disturbing event. They weren't born like werewolves or fae. They were turned similarly to vampires. As a vampire, you were technically already dead, a cold, hard shell walking around using other people's blood to stay alive. Hellhounds were the same in the sense of the human being dead, only once dead, the spirit of a Hellhound would possess the mortal body which in turn kept the body and human functional.

Why would the leak about it to demons of other dimensions? Locking my room I walked out when I heard the breathing. It was too loud for it to be a human sound. My head turned around only to notice a hellhound. How is that possible? Lukas told me that only dead people can see hellhound. My gut clenched as I stared at the hellhound, saliva dripping on the floor from the corner of its mouth. The creature in front of me was something I had never imagined. With a large head and almost dog-like the body, it was giant and feral with sharp white teeth poking out.

I will find them, and I will kill the bastard responsible for this. "Jax!" my mother screamed through the halls. When my father arrived, my mother informed him of the situation. Within minutes, another alert sounded through the pack link. "Find Rina and my grand pups now!" his voice boomed. I raced to the place we had killed the bastard. The cleaning staff was just beginning to clean up the spot. I sniffed around trying to find anything that would lead us to Rina. The bastard's blood stunk. It was like it was already dead and rotting. Rouge. He must be a rouge. Most rouges lived peaceful lives, they were allowed to visit pack towns and they had all the same things a normal pack would have. t

I wanted to watch Bradley’s reaction as Hex devoured them, their screams filling the room, and their blood creating puddles on the cement ground. Hex was typically a small man who looks harmless, but he was a special breed of puca. He could shapeshift into anything, and my personal favorite was the wendigo; An eight feet tall creature, if his back weren’t hunched he would hit the ceiling of the garage, he had nothing but bones and flesh with patches of black and brown fur here and there, horns like a woodland animal, his face was skeletal, and if he weren’t too busy eating the humans, I would have almost called him cute.

Zeke turned behind too. Quincy who sat by the sofa shrugged meanwhile she knew that Abi walked into the Catacomb. Something they didn't explain to Abi was that, the catacomb was filled with deadly beasts which used the form of the littered bones to attack and that alone made them immortal. First, the beast were mindless and in a soul form. They only possess vessels knowing as they wouldn't do any harm unless they use a vessel. And the vessel was of the littered bones. So anyone who enters never comes out.

One hellhound is about six feet tall, which could easily tower anyone. I fired the black ammo at the first hellhound that I saw, which is pinning down one of the hunters. The other hunters in the vicinity try to help their comrade, but the hellhound just vanishes into the shadows. Impressive, I thought as I loaded another black ammo. Maybe I should ask Verphegor for more of these, but I won’t let him know that I intend to use them on him if he ever shows up in my room without notice again.

Using my sword skills, I tear through their bodies, slicing their heads and limbs, but they keep coming. My body bows as claws dig into my back. Falling forward, I manage to rip away from the claw and slice at the hound, but another grips my arm. I kick out as my sword clatters onto the floor and rip another hound’s arm. Its grey body shudders, and its wolflike snout curls. Outside of their human forms, hellhounds are not pretty creatures. They are gray, with large, stout, pitbull bodies, very little hair, and heads are round with tiny cauliflower ears, beady dark eyes, and puglike snouts.

I stared at the approaching forces with a beating heart. The Iron Hounds were no joke. Legend said they were wolves who had been modified by the council, they were part beast, part dark alchemy, and entirely devoid of mercy. "Decisions, decisions," Bella muttered, appearing behind us with a crossbow that looked suspiciously heavy for a doctor. "Do we go with the ex who has the personality of a damp rag, or stay with the brooding psychopath who currently has a purple jaw? It’s like a romantic comedy, but with more beheadings."