Horror X Dust Novels & Stories

The red-clad female ghost had once slaughtered an entire room of players in three seconds, then hung their corpses upside down from tree branches with red silk, creating a forest of dangling bodies. The Scissorhands monster had skewered more than a dozen people together, stirring their organs with his blades until they dissolved into a pile of flesh. As for the warden, he locked each team inside separate rooms and released over a dozen ghosts among them, forcing them to betray one another in desperate attempts to survive. In the end, every single one of the players was torn to pieces. All the players knew was that the bosses' methods were monstrously cruel. What they didn't know was that tho

A unicorn stood there, horn still dripping fresh blood, and gave each of us a card. Then she spoke. "Have you seen my mate?" I froze. No clue who she meant. I stayed quiet. Her eyes flared red. Then she snapped. "Why? Why haven't you come yet? I've waited so long!" She charged. That horn? Basically a blade. Aimed straight for my chest. Right before impact, a flash of silver tore through the air. When I blinked, her horn was gone—clean cut. The silver cross Darkblood Count gave me was floating midair, cloaked in black mist like it had a mind of its own.

Dustine kicked the black vampire’s sensitive part that made him groan in pain that made him lose grip on Dawn, he immediately pulled Dawn and hid her in his back but she ran and went back inside the car while her tears were streaming. “Haven't you ever touched my girl!!” Dustine shouted angrily before flying and gave him a stomach kick. While he is lying on the ground, Dustine repeatedly punches his face before grabbing the silver dagger on the man’s grip and stabs it right in his chest then he turns into ashes and fades away. It was such a blessing that no humans are currently in that place because if there is surely they will scream and be scared.

Then, he casually tossed the stack of photos in front of Leah. Two naked male bodies intertwined on disheveled bed sheets, their positions too disturbing to look at. The angle of the shots was perfect, as if someone had deliberately taken them. Their faces were clearly visible. Dexter's face showed no signs of pain or fear. Instead, there was a look of almost indulgent pleasure.

Grey. I hadn't slept more than three hours the night before. And when I did, the dreams clawed at me like they were trying to rip something out of my chest. The same scene. The same breathless panic. The same cold silence at the end that always felt louder than any scream. I was sweating by the time I woke up, tangled in sheets, gasping like I'd been drowning in my own mind. I didn’t bother changing out of the hoodie I slept in. It still smelled faintly of smoke. Or maybe that was just in my head too.

asked Gord. "Yes, the paths here are intentionally covered with dust so that no one can enter and disturb this area," said Helena. Helena and one of the men then went inside, watching the path. Helena looked to and fro, right and up, this part was not much different from the outside environment; both are wild, maybe even the moss on these walls is wild, it may be very dangerous to touch the moss. If Helena smelled it, it could be a very dangerous poison for a person who only has a very unstable immune system.

If Desiree continued to behave this way, I thought I'd let her stay with us for the foreseeable future. Unfortunately, nothing lasted forever. While I was in the middle of a meeting one day, Deborah called me out of the blue. "You need to come home, Mr. Green. It's an emergency! Your ex-wife just showed up, and she's trying to kill Desiree!" I frantically rushed home and rescued Desiree, whom Vivian had pinned against the wall. Desiree had been stabbed in the stomach and was bleeding profusely. Her face was pale, and she looked terrified.

It was a crisp, high-quality sheet, but the paper itself wasn’t the problem. The problem was the dust. A fine, glittering powder coated the paper’s edges, shimmering faintly in the room’s harsh overhead light. It was silver dust, trace amounts, a deliberate, calculated warning that assaulted my newly sensitive nose. The metallic poison was subtle enough not to burn me, but powerful enough to send a clear message: I know what you are, and I was here. I picked up the note, the fine powder instantly staining my fingers. The paper felt heavy and personal. The terror, which had been tamed by Damian's Alpha control, suddenly clawed its way back, pure and focused on Alex.