Horcruxes Novels & Stories

The air in the chamber didn't just chill; it died. The figure standing in the corner was a grotesque mockery of life. Ronan’s body, which Zayden had broken with his bare hands, stood upright, but his limbs moved with a disjointed, mechanical twitching. The void-black eyes leaked a dark, viscous smoke that pooled at his feet. This wasn't a werewolf. This was the Hollow—an ancient, forbidden rite of the Virex line used only when a challenger refused to stay dead.

The appearance of the "Lyra-Horde" turned the "Unmapped" North into a landscape of terminal identity crisis. These were the "Deleted Ends"—the versions of Lyra Thorne who had died in the forest, the versions who had married the vampire king, the versions who had been "Purified" by the Council. Each one carried a different "Ache," a different "Scent," and a different "Sovereign" frequency. They stood in the center of the keep, their obsidian blades creating a rhythmic, metallic hum that drowned out the sound of the wind.

His voice, when it came, was heavy with centuries. “We are the Horax. A sacred body of hunters gifted with the binding power of celestial magic. Guardians of the realm. Destroyers of corrupted gods.” Aeron’s posture stiffened, the name tugging at the farthest corners of memory. “Why are you here? Why now?” “Because if you are to understand what is coming,” the Horax leader said, “then we must first tell you what came before.” He lifted a gloved hand, and the runes on his wrist flared to life. Mist gathered at his feet, swirling up into shapes, images—memories frozen in time.

“It's poison. The potion is an ancient serum called the Noctirix serum. It has dark active ingredients that only witches can conjure. One drop from the potion is enough to kill any supernatural creature.” My breath seized in my throat at the realization. Was I really dead? “No. You are in between. Not fully dead. You are an Opal wolf, the only creature that cheats death.” “But it is not safe here. We must find a way to go back before it finds us,” Aria breathed restlessly, urgency laced in her tone. “What are you talking about?” “Something is coming for us, Azalea. It's dark, driven by dark magic. We must hide before it finds us.”

Malric’s hydra, a fusion of every weaver’s wrath Sereth, Verath, Vorath, Sylvara, Caleth, Elyra, Aethra, Null, Auris, Veridias, Omnis, Nihil, Eternis, Liora, Verith, Vynia loomed, its threads weaving a cage of deceit around Kade, Selene, Lucas, and Bryan, their love battered by accusations of cheating and disloyalty. Her mother’s scream “Forgive me!” echoed, her spark a fleeting ally against Malric’s manipulation, now trapped in the hydra’s grasp. The abyss churned, a battlefield of snapping threads and splintered light, the shattered star’s pulse a relentless war drum, demanding a reckoning for their fractured trust.

It was barely there, a testament to how utterly drained she was, how much this place was sapping her. The first Chronovore was almost upon us. It was a horrific thing, all angles and blades, its movements jerky and unnatural, as if it were constantly folding and unfolding itself through existence. Its maw opened, a vortex of swirling darkness, revealing rows of teeth that weren't just sharp, but seemed to distort the very air around them.

White patterns began to emerge on the skeletons, restricting their breaths, suffocating them. A thousand from the army began to gag, falling on their knees as their pupil and iris both turned pure white, taking their lives. Returning to where they belong, underworld. But, just the thousand damage showed how it differs. If it was humans, he would have taken five thousands at most but they were tougher than humans and only got one thousand. “My, We have a Rylix among us.” Katastrofi mumbled. Rylix was used to call those people who could use sacred magic at its highest level.

“Hades? Please.And shut up, I am getting a headache from your talking. How can that anomaly stand you, I do not want to know. They had been walking for thirty minutes when they have finally reached what it seemed to be a massive square rock that resembled a music box. It had a heavy lid with a heavy gold lock with a gaping hole in the middle. The box itself was loaded by runic inscriptions. From the runes alone, Helena knew that this was forged by the Elves and impossible to break through. Legend says that Cronos is impossible to kill that is why he was imprisoned and his power was weakend. Apparently, he had ample strength to be able to manipulate Persephone. Helena closed her eyes and wish

Maybe I really was making a huge mistake pushing him away. Interrupting my thoughts, Lucy replied, “Oh, it’s definitely true! Blake tortures people too, and so did his dad—well, your dad too, I guess. I’ve heard stories. I won’t repeat them because they’re gruesome.” “Tell me, please,” I said, eager to know, begging Lucy with my eyes. “Okay, I won’t go into detail, but I’ve heard they chop people’s arms and legs off and pull out their eyes. Stuff like that. And werewolves don’t die. They just heal so they can keep going for hours.”

Luna is holding a pen and a paper waiting for what I will say next. “No!” I screamed. I don’t know what to do and I am starting to panic. What if I can’t go back to my body anymore? I am not ready. Please don’t. I tried to touch Devon again but I couldn't really touch him. Same with Luna. How can I go back? I saw the mirror was gone and the crystals too. Means I am not protected anymore and the door is gone. So there’s a possibility that I will be stuck here. I ran to the door but I couldn't open it because I couldn't even touch the doorknob. I suddenly heard the voice whispering in my ears again…