Homunculi Novels & Stories

Zhu Wushang asks as he nudges one of the corpses with his feet. “Yes Master, they are former humans who got affected by Shub-Niggurath's dark power. She has the power to corrupt living beings and changes them to become her servant.” The Black Merchant report. “I remember that name… in the book called Necronomicon. She’s one of the great old ones, “The Black goat of the wood with a thousand young” is her title.” Zhu Wushang recalled the content he had read, it was a pity that the books had already turned into scrap after he had evolved within that cocoon.

(Holgun Iron Horn) Holgun confidently said, as he placed a folder of files in front of me, and as I looked over the paper reports inside the folders. It was just like what he said, every single targets were vanquished perfectly and disguised meticulously, that even if there is an evidence found, it was all planted by Holgun, and no matter what it would never pointed back at him and his men, even more toward Aeternum and me. Every accomplice that participate in that Assassination, never knows who Holgun was or his men, as they constantly used magic to disguised themselves as humans, and anyone that knows or even a hinted suspicious of him or his men, were all exterminated. Needless to say, Ho

While David was distracted with the other minions, Dorime began to splash ink in the wall using the onyx. He shaped it using his little hands and used his flying golem for the unreachable places. He painted a humanoid striking a T-pose in the center of the wall, with lines near its body, as if they represented that it was glowing. Near, he made the crude shapes of various of his new and older brothers: Skeletor was a small horned humanoid, lumps represented the rats and squirrels, some tunneling worms, vultures, beetles, and even some ants.

"We always wondered why the Moon Goddess didn't strike him down. We wondered how a wolf could poison the earth, torture Elementals, and twist the laws of nature without Her intervention. We thought perhaps She had turned Her back on us." Elder Horne leaned forward, his cane clattering against the desk. "What did you find?" Thorpe pushed the book toward the center of the desk. It showed a grotesque illustration: a circle of runes carved not into stone, but into something organic. Something white and porous. "He isn't just using technology," Thorpe choked out. "He is using necromancy. He has created a blind spot." Fennigan frowned, looking at the drawing. "A blind spot? How do you blind a Godd

“They’re creating hybrids, Alexei. Homunculi. But they’re not just weapons… They’re concepts. Materialized ideas.” “What do you mean?” “They’re not just making war monsters. They’re making tools of complete domination. Physical, mental, emotional. Each creature was made with an absurd function. There’s one that becomes invisible. Light refraction, heat and odor suppression, zero noise. A predator that could walk through FSB headquarters and no one would know.” Alexei held his breath on the other end. “How many of these are there?” “One per model… for now. But the scientist guaranteed he can duplicate any of them in weeks. This isn’t a laboratory, it’s a time b

POV: Professor Cornelius Fell | Hermetic Order Secondary Facility, Undisclosed Location The embryo was the most perfect thing Fell had ever made. He stood at the incubation chamber and looked at it through the crystal viewing panel the way other people looked at sunsets or newborns, with the specific quality of attention that meant he had stopped cataloguing and started simply seeing. Five viable hybrids had come out of the Rookeries battle. Four were developing on predictable curves, useful data points, exactly what the program needed. The fifth was something else entirely.

The boy’s voice didn't echo; it absorbed the sound of the world around it. Standing in the crumbling tunnel, the "Shadow Heir" looked less like a monster and more like a terrifyingly perfect sculpture of a child. The glowing sphere in his hand pulsed in time with my own fading heartbeat, a physical manifestation of the "Final Liquidation."

Alessandro said as he picked up a thumbscrew. These were a particular favourite of his father’s, invented by some barbaric humans centuries before he was born. Alessandro had a room full of these as his most prized possessions in their family home. “Crazy things always happen during full moons. You know that.” “Not like this. This one here,” Alessandro poked one of the humans, “said there was a sex demon in the city.” “Sex demon?” “Succubus or incubi.” “Have you been reading fiction again? Those are just myths.”

As if noticing my curious glances, Lucan leaned closer and explained, “That’s a Graveborn. They call themselves Necromancers.” I frowned, studying the man in question. At first glance, he looked human but the details betrayed him. His eyes glowed a deep crimson, and when he spoke, sharp fangs flashed briefly. I would’ve taken him for a vampire, but his skin wasn’t pale like the ones I’d met before; instead, it held a faint gray tint, like ash brought to life.

The world was made of forgotten things. Aleron drifted through its corridors, a silhouette of hunger against the shifting walls. He was a paradox, an incubus woven from the threads of desire, cursed to sup only on fear. For centuries, he had been a ghost in the machine of the subconscious, a beautiful monster who could only feast on the sour wine of terror. He wore his damnation like a shroud, his very essence a hollowed-out cavern where want gnawed at him with relentless teeth.