Hounds Backrooms Novels & Stories

I came through the private gallery, the heavy oak doors slamming against the stone walls with a violence that made the remaining guards jump. I was a vision of carnage. The midnight-blue silk was stiff with dark, crusted blood, and the war-paint on my cheekbones was smeared with the soot of the Old City. Behind me, the twelve Ghost Hounds moved in a phalanx of silent steel, the rhythmic clank of their armor the only sound in the cavernous room. Two of them carried a heavy, sodden burlap sack. They didn't set it down. They waited for my signal.

The dark hair on his chest was matted with the dirt of the ridge, his claws extending from his knuckles with a wet, heavy click. From the dense spruce forest behind the split boundary stone, the first of the invaders appeared. They were massive, twice the size of Silas’s timber wolves, their bodies wrapped in thick plates of dark iron that had been bolted directly into their flesh. These were the Iron Hounds, the selective breed of the Southern Council, raised in dark caves and fed on nothing but raw meat and sulfur to make them hate their own kind. Their eyes were bloodshot and wild, their jaws fitted with steel muzzle guards that had been sharpened to razor edges.

There were too many ladies that coveted the position as the Young Madam of the Long Empire! Who knows how many dirty deeds those ladies have done in order to just meet his boss! All of them, there was not a single one he could trust to allow him to willingly let them marry his boss. While they were looking beautiful on the surface, the face underneath was filled and ridden with ugly scars of menace. The scars coming from them participating in an unofficial all-out war for the position as the young madam of their empire. It truly stumped Fu Chao on just how thirsty and ugly ladies could get when they were competing for something. Though, he would rather reiterate that his boss was a human, no

They were massive, slab-sided beasts of muscle and chrome, designed to hunt down escapees with the relentless precision of a clockwork nightmare. I froze on a ridge. The sound was coming from the ravine, a treacherous stretch of land half a mile from the camp. "Dammit," I hissed. I told myself I was just going to check the disposal method of the human. I told myself I needed to see if she actually had any physical intel on her person before the Hounds shredded it. I lied to myself all the way to the edge of the ravine. The smell hit me first: it smelled like rotten meat, metals and a drug that I couldn’t pinpoint the smell or I was unable to pinpoint the smell cause the state The girl was in

“Is there a reason you’re trying to make me feel small? I don’t back down that easily.” “Hm… wasn’t thinking of it.” “Really? Then what were you thinking about?” “Maybe later. Now isn’t the time to talk about it. How long will it take for you people to get here?” “Oh, the Hounds will be here in the next two or three hours, and they come bearing food, gents. Hilda’s cooked and packed some spare things from our Christmas Fare. So, eating will be good.” “The Hounds?” Hal looked up from his computer for possibly the first time since she entered the room and dropped the information on them. None really had looked surprised, which was odd with nothing else considered.

Jaxon wi⁠ll‍ kn‌ow where I am. I mo⁠ved l‌ike⁠ a ghost through the l⁠abyrinth of the subt⁠erranean bun‌ker. Th‌e⁠⁠ c‌ompound wa⁠s built lik⁠e an old military bunke‍r, narrow, low-ceilinge‌d conc⁠⁠rete hallways,‍ exposed iro‌n pipes leaking‌ st⁠eam, and he‌avy steel security doors marke‌d with the re‌d crest of the‍ Bloodh‌ound‍ Pack.

Instead, my children rushed to me, tears streaming down their faces as they hugged me tightly and asked why I hadn’t reported it to the police. I stroked their heads gently, then pressed play on a recording. Natalie’s voice filled the venue. “You think you can take the title from me? Don’t overestimate yourself. “If I so much as frown, Jared would tear out his heart for me. He’s more loyal than a dog. In South City, the Johnson Group is everything.” Jared spun around to glare at Natalie, his eyes blazing like fire. She panicked, ducking away from the cameras, desperately waving for someone to shut the recording off.

Chapter 66: The Rats in the Basement The safe house wasn't safe anymore. Not with the weight of secrets cracking its walls and the smell of betrayal thick in the air like mold. It was a rundown warehouse on the edge of the city, hidden behind a row of forgotten shipping containers. A perfect place for ghosts like them—Raymond, Henry, and now, Pigo. Pigo stepped inside like a man stepping into a lion’s den with raw meat strapped to his chest. His black hoodie was damp from sweat, despite the night’s cold. His eyes scanned every shadow, every creak, every dark corner.

Then everything starts making sense and my blood runs cold. The recording starts in a dim room decorated similar to the BDSM room back at the penthouse. Everything is similar, but there’s something suspicious about the room on the screen, something that sets my teeth on edge. There’s a dark, sinister air around it. Suddenly, the camera navigates to a man kneeling on the floor face down with both hands cuffed behind his back. He’s completely naked save the black briefs that cover his thick, flaccid cock. Even before the camera shows the tattoo on his back, I already know who it is. Bhyron.

The operator was disdainfully annoyed. “Yeah, I am,” Aislen replied. “Because I’m pretty sure that it’s a skull. Like, of the human variety. And there’s this rather cool metal box that went with it, full of pornography of the underage sort… Kiddie porn, not kidding, of the graphic kind.” “Where did you say that you were?” The operator was paying attention now. “Oakridge road, Havermouth,” Aislen leaned on the shovel. “They can’t miss me.”