Hounds Backrooms Novels & Stories

MEANWHILE. In a dimly lit backroom of a run-down tavern, known as "The Hollow Pointe." Where the air reeks of spilled ale and whispered deals. The room is filled with shadowy figures, all mercenaries, of different races: humans, werewolves, and vampires, but all of them are bounty hunters, and opportunists seeking their next payday. The noise inside the filthy basement was soon disturbed by the simultaneous buzzing of phones as a name popped up at the top of the list.

“You help me, I keep you out of prison. You’re not here to ask questions.” Emily stood her ground, crossing her arms. “I know you, Hound. I will not serve as an accessory to your murders or whatever you have planned.” Hound sighed, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. Slowly, he began to strip off his shirt, revealing the intricate runes etched across his body in deep blue ink. The sight was both mesmerizing and harrowing. “I watched my mother die, overworked as a slave,” he began, his voice trembling. “I should have pushed her off the building… It would’ve been the greatest mercy I could’ve offered her.”

The air near the East River had a sour chill to it, like old metal and older secrets. Isolde tightened the collar of her black trench as she stepped out of the car, gravel crunching beneath her heels. Dorian killed the engine, eyes already scanning the deserted docks. Warehouse 17 loomed like a forgotten tomb, its iron shell coated in decades of industrial grime. But its recent security feed accessed by Penelope’s ghosted node showed signs of movement just hours ago.

A thickly accented voice queries. Charlie furrows her brows, she glances at Bulky who stares at her intently, "Er... What? Excuse me?" The voice at the other end of the phone sighs noisily before replying, "I'm sorry. Let me introduce myself. My name is Dr. Tristan Denvard and my... patient is currently in Steinfield, precisely around your block. I've called up to 24 houses looking for my client. You're the 25th house and 25 is my lucky number, I hope." He mutters the last part.

“They walk in shadow, cloaked not in fur but in malice woven. Their eyes are voids, deeper than tombs, and their breath withers hope. They need no pack, yet oft they come as one—five, ten, more—like the black wind before the storm.” “Beware, oh kin of claw and fang. When the woods fall still and the birds forget their songs; when the moon hides her face and the beasts of field flee in silence—then they are near. Bolt thy den and speak not their name, for to name them aloud is to draw their gaze.” “Let this be writ in claw and ash: the houndras cometh not for meat nor mirth, but for the ending of all things forgotten.” “That's it?” Rune asked, frustrated as he flipped through the pages hoping

By the time they found him, he was crouched on the side of the road, shaking with fear at the sight of a stray dog. Since then, dogs had become Parker's greatest fear. I couldn't believe that the very person who had caused his fear would have the audacity to give him a toy dog as a gift. I wasn't sure if I felt more anger or disappointment. Setting the box aside, I said calmly, "Thanks." Beatrice looked at me with a puzzled expression. A moment later, she seemed to remember something and said, "The power's out at Maxwell's place, so I'm having him stay at our house.

"You looking tonight. Just got a twink walk in here like 30 minutes ago. You might kick it off." "Nah. Not in the mood tonight. Are there any goods in the backrooms?" He nods and that's where I'm headed. The backrooms are rooms specifically for insane orgies and drug abuse. I enter one of them and take a seat on the cum soaked chair. Someone is handing out pills and I'm not too shy to take 5. He tells me they're strong and 5 isn't healthy. I ignore the warning and swallow them with my beer. Nothing happens so I reach out to take a joint. 2 steps and I'm crashing on the table. The others laugh at me. I'm laughing at myself too.

Her eyes were set on the person that I pointed at. "Oh." She turned to me, raising my eyebrows, "That's Ares Young." "Ares Young?" "Yeah. He's a billionaire, and he owns the White Claws team. Rumors said that he killed people before and got away with it." My eyes were about to pop out of its socket hearing it. My lungs suddenly decided to betray me by not letting me breathe properly. "We were warned not to mess with him before, and he's bad news." Too late, Jaz.

The freckles seem to become more prominent and Siobhan glanced at her as she said, in awe, “James Bond’s gun?” Hila sighed and snapped, “It’s easily concealed,” and handed the young woman the magazine. A sound, slight but heard easily in the still dusk, made them fall silent. “Back door?” asked Hila in a low whisper. Siobhan jerked her head. “But it opens into the unused alley at the back.” And then, as a thought struck her, she went on, excitedly, “It’s very narrow, like real narrow.” They looked at each other. A plan hatched in Hila’s mind as she smiled slightly.

I managed to move my legs out of his room and got into the bedroom that was right opposite his, it should be the one I'll stay after the activity with him. I stayed behind the door and imagined his fingers down deep inside my panties, I stretched my hands into my panties and felt it wet already. Silly me, I was here to take revenge on those who killed Mother and not to get my panties wet for Alpha Kael.