Hellhound Mythology Novels & Stories

“You insolent halfling! I will not spare you nor your treacherous family!” The demon king of the Nether World flicked his arm to Maleficent’s direction. On cue, hellhounds – wolves from the pits of the Nether World – immerged from thin air. The hellhounds got their three eyes transfixed to the family of three. Three hellhounds from the demon king’s crimson flames multiplied to two – two for each Glutton family member.

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.

Especially that creature, the like of which she had never seen before, terrifying, pale, cold and sticky, disgusting, found herself trapped in a dark cave, in a place surrounded by water from every direction with the remaining friends who were celebrating with her her doomed wedding anniversary, and who She was losing them one by one, as they would come to them every day directly to devour one of them, and his screams would rise, filling the place, echoing throughout the cave until he was unable to do so, eating his flesh alive until there was nothing left of it. She witnessed the food of all her friends, one after the other, and she hoped the Almighty every day that her turn would not come,

Lyra’s stomach twisted violently. She’d heard of them in half-forgotten legends: creatures born of corrupted souls, bound by blood-magic and cursed purpose. Not quite spirit, not quite flesh—made for hunting things like her. Things cursed by birth. “We have to hold the Hollow,” Kaelen said, already moving to the ridge. “The wards weren’t made to stop soul-bound beasts.” Lyra followed, every nerve lit with adrenaline. The Hollow shifted around them—branches curling away, roots retracting as if the forest itself feared what approached. They reached the high ridge just in time to see the first of the monsters step from the tree line.

The Ushi-Oni or the gyūki, The gyūki was a monster whose appearance looked like a spider with an ox's head that sported long sharp poisonous horns, and razor-sharp fangs, each of its six legs had a single long claw that could slice through even the toughest of metals, and its forked tongue carried the force of a whip. It was a creature of nightmares. A monster that most gods assumed was mythical, a folklore legend, but the gods of the Underworld Kingdom knew better. A single Ushi-Oni could cause a sickness that would drain the lesser gods and goddesses of their souls and their divine gifts; it would then use those powers to unlock the hidden cells of the sub-princes of Hell; Astaroth, Maggot

He snapped, "Get away from me! Stay back and don't come near me!" Andrew retreated step by step, keeping his hunting knife pointed at the creature. "Everyone, back away slowly. Don't make any sudden movements that might disturb it." Chantelle backed away, her voice trembling. "Mr. Lloyd, what the hell is that thing? All those Deathbugs just vanished when it showed up! You're telling me this freak's worse than the bugs?" Andrew watched the monster's constantly rotating head and took a deep breath before explaining, "It's a Night Hag—an evil creature only mentioned in ancient texts. Legend says they were created by ancient sorcerers who force-fed corpse maggots to young women while they were s

"I used to dream about an elvish man kissing my forehead and this fae woman attempting to take flight only to be attacked by I believe a hellhound." With Dante's sharp intake of breath and his eyes shutting in agony, she knew it wasn't a nightmare. It happened. It truly happened. Those were her last moments with her parents before they were brutally murdered by a hellhound. They were her memories. Lady Crystobelle took a deep breath before tears filled her eyes. "So hellhounds truly came to Elovaisus," she murmured, shaking her head. "I-I must tell Queen Hyacinth, the dwarves in the Silver Star Mountains, and the Priestesses of the Fire."

Her face paled. “This symbol,” she said slowly, “it’s not of any known pack. It predates the Clans.” Elandra stepped into the circle. “It’s the mark of the Hollow Howl—a cult that was buried centuries ago. They believed in unbinding the werewolf from the Moon Goddess entirely. No laws. No bonds. Only blood.” Theron’s staff struck the floor. “You mean to tell me they survived?” “They evolved,” Kael said grimly. “And now they’ve returned with power we barely understand.”

Octavia asked. “Yes, they are the most powerful creatures in hell and also the most loyal. They would do anything for the ones they love. That is why it is extremely rare for hellhounds to have masters because they get attached and possessive,” I said. “He doesn’t seem attached or very possessive to Lillian,” she said.

“The spell tracks the spiritual vapors of living beings, and creates a ghostly image of our quarry to follow, if not our quarry, then our imprisoned friends.” Archon flashed a picture of the spade hooded being and then a ghost, “Archon thinks the Spade Hood is a soulless creature of sorts.” “I assure you it is not,” Something in Herne's voice told Warren this hunt was personal. The magical words left Herne's mouth and he placed a palm against the symbol he created. It glowed soft and began to emit particles of light. Bit by bit the particles formed an image of the Spade hooded monster and other members of the Scald Crow. “See lad the creature has a soul.” He shouldered the Dragunov rifle an