Heroic Novels & Stories

The duo huddled together for warmth in the cosy sofa. Miriam was quite tipsy from the shots of whisky and cigarettes as she curled up in Ben's arms. She felt a rage of emotional turbulence brewing within her while she struggled to free herself from the impact of the day's mix of events. Slowly, she removed herself from Ben's arms and staggered to her feet--still feeling the impact of alcohol. Ben followed suit hoping to steady her as she made to move away from the sofa. He grabbed her hips from behind and pressed his body against hers.

Never quite been able to please the old wart, not even when all I did was love him. Hector the god-fucking Lycan had been my hero, all I ever wanted to be when I grew up. What a load of absolute bull dung. I felt my heart jump to my throat when something not unlike sadness flashed across his luminescent dust-grey eyes. “Then Japhtar, may the best king win.” Hector rumbled and then he was flying toward me, the weight of his royal army roaring to close the distance between us in seconds.

Lariempi replied softly “But I can make it up to you.” He added after a moment of silence “How?” Amelia asked as she finally turned around to take a look at the god who took up the form of a dashing young man “I can help you evolve and become stronger so you can have you revenge.” He replied “Have my revenge? But the monster is already dead.” Amelia exclaimed “This mystic beast is not the first to slip into the mortal world and it won’t be the last, your husband is just one of several that has died and will die by their claws.” Lariempi said emotionlessly

a werewolf announced. Zane Drocco is a handsome lad carrying the title of being the oldest among them despite the clear skin and youthful appearance. He's had visions of the past, present, and future. He's also laid out several prophecies that turned out to be quite true, and everything he envisioned had come to reality. Apart from that, he is also the strongest warrior who led battles to victory in centuries. A literal knight in shining armour.

"You little child of yesterday, stop playing with words, I don't have any weaknesses. Since you gave me five minutes, I will now give you two minutes to defeat me." "Easy peasy, I was hoping you'd say that." Hiro said. "You think you can defeat me?" Xarath snarled, Nevera's voice distorted beyond recognition. "It's not I think, I know it." Hiro answered with pride and then charged forward, his fists clenched and eyes blazing with determination. "I've faced worse than you, Xarath," Hiro declared, his voice unwavering. With a swift kick, Hiro sent Nevera's body flying across the room, but Xarath quickly regained control, summoning dark energy to amplify Nevera's physical strength.

Hans drew closer once more, pausing on the opposite side of the Azazel, watching Athena in a way that left her feeling as if she was standing naked in his living room. Hans turned to Azazel and delivered a blow on his cheek. The barrel cut his skin, and fresh blood oozed from his already broken skin. “Please don’t,” Athena struggled against Rustom. Azazel’s heart fluttered that his wife was now showing concern toward him. “You know the problem with heroes, Azazel?” Hans asked the bloody Azazel. “Only fools become heroes,” he moved to Athena and clutched her throat while Azazel struggled.