Homunculi Novels & Stories

The humans went about their business eating dinner and getting ready for sleep; oblivious to what went on inside the large canopy of the dense trees. Deep inside the forest, the scent of blood hung thick in the air. The night had gone eerily quiet as the five creatures were standing in a loose circle. They were oddly shaped- a cross between an orc and a goblin with limbs sprouting from their bodies at odd angles. Their eyes were mere sockets, lidless and black orbs and a slit for a mouth with a set of crisscrossed pincers and a long nose to complete their look. They were the hycwens, a blood-thirsty race of wild and untamed creatures that killed for sport and ate anything that moved.

It was a pathetic and undeniable craven existence but it was how they were winning the war. Dave let out a sigh. "No. He used a HG blade." I nodded. A brilliant man named Henry Gomez spent his life developing a UV spiked, but essentially silver based liquid that could be applied to any metallic object, leaving a coat of active poison that would kill both shade and host upon entering the their shared body. Something in perfectly balanced formula temporarily imprisoned the shade and as long as the wounds you inflicted on the human were mortal, the shade shared the same fate. The HG liquid had become as precious to us as light bulbs. It was hard to come by at the best of times, especially out h

Angelina asked, suddenly swallowing hard. The necromancer’s eyes narrowed, as he examined the girl’s nervous face. “No, Angel. Today, we’ll have to raise a strong undead. This horse will not only retain his memory, mind and his own body. He’ll turn into a shellmouger. The monster sometimes called Scarlet Hoof. He’s a rare one, and he almost never appears naturally, without a necromancer’s help. And that’s because the monster requires an enormous amount of magic. “Reive, but I can’t...”

My heart is furiously beating as I type the word nonhuman. Many articles pop up so I just click on the first one. There are so many definitions. Sirens,witches, vampires , demons and yes, Angels are there too. Apparently the term is used to describe people who are not exactly humans, people with unusual gifts or powers. The following article says nonhumans are just a myth and that no such thing exists. One says they were real during the eighteenth century but we're destroyed and are now extinct. I keep on reading and even click on the images. The images are a bit scary and definitely not human. The thought that I could be one of those things is more than scary.

The light of that ring grew brighter and brighter, and soon it caught even Red Rose’s attention. “What’s that mad man up to this time?” the Barbarian Primogenitor wondered as she smashed another Wind Demon into the ground; however, she had barely conceived the thought when the ground around her began to tremble. “I will show you why Necromancers are regarded as Dark Earth Hybrids. Stand, Blood Golems.”

Adam passed him a bag of ice which he held to his head while he managed to stand up. “Are you okay?” Adam asked. “Yea, I will be.” Ichabod replied in his normal voice before sitting down. “Odin told me what happened, Denis was the lady? Is that true?” Ichabod nodded. It was stupid but there was no way he could explain that to him. He couldn’t even understand. “How is that possible?” “I don’t know Adams, I don’t think Odin knows either.” “Odin mentioned reincarnation, so it’s possible. “

Beric’s body burst outward in a web of living quicksilver tendrils. Human skin dropped away like a discarded, withered husk, revealing the thing that had worn it: the Second Heretic—the Puppeteer of Broken Bones—an abomination of endless limbs of solid mercury, already striking sharpened claws straight for the twins’ exposed necks, as the seven stars on Valen’s chest flared in a shriek of light that shattered every mirror in the room.

Kaela stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching him. Finally— "You gonna tell me what that was back there?" she asked. His jaw flexed. “You don’t want to know.” “Try me.” Silence. Then— “My father called it the Hollowborn.” Kaela stepped in. Slowly. “That doesn’t sound fake at all.” “He said it used to be human. Once. Maybe.” That made her stop. Cold. “What do you mean maybe?” Ronan looked up. His eyes were flat. “I mean something took what we were and broke it. Cracked it open and filled it with something else. Rage. Hunger. Emptiness. It doesn’t shift. It becomes.”

"I won't let them harm us." Aunt Cleo's voice sliced through the air like a warning bell, her words laced with urgency and gravity. "Aqua, you need to grasp the true threat of the coven. They're not just ordinary casters. Each possesses unique abilities, ranging from unnaturally swift regeneration and inhuman strength to the sinister power to manipulate creatures and even people, turning them into spies. Some even boast of an unnerving form of immortality, extending their lives far beyond the natural order. And worst of all, they have the terrifying capability to absorb the powers of other casters."

The other was a tall man with the permanent scowl of someone who'd once been a bureaucrat and now had to carry a gun. The woman introduced herself as Marta Sánchez, formerly Control Acquisition Division. The man, DeWitt, didn’t give a first name. Marta pulled a tarp off a metal cart. What lay beneath looked like a human brain, roughly basketball-sized, mounted on a mess of tentacles and chitinous limbs. It had no eyes, but ridges across its central mass pulsed faintly, as if registering light. "Meet the enemy," Marta said. "This is a dead one. We think. Don’t poke it."