Ice Creatures Novels & Stories

[Fineon’s POV] I watch with wide eyes as the wall of Glacies wolves begin to move, crashing into and absorbing one another until all that is left is a large, three-headed creature with rows of razor-sharp teeth that drip a green liquid that I’m sure is acid. "Shit," I hiss, realizing exactly what is going on. "This isn’t good." "What?" Fallon asks, looking from me to the creature in front of us. "In the hell is that?"

I gasped in surprise. “Aren't sacred creatures a myth?” I asked in confusion. They all looked at each other, and then Elijah took my hand. “To the world, the sacred creatures are a myth, but the truth, known only to a few, is that they are beings that hibernate underground,” Elijah explained. "They are difficult to track, especially because they are beings that slumber to such an extent that their energy cannot be perceived. They have dedicated themselves to a deep sleep to awaken when the great call of the gods comes. And that is not something we hope will happen."

Elara stepped inside, her boots squelching on a floor that felt like sun-dried leather. "Stay back," Kazimir growled, his hand tight on the hilt of his machete. He pointed his chemical torch at the ceiling. The light revealed the Remnants. Hanging from the rafters in cocoons of amber resin were the "Scraps" of other worlds. There were creatures with six limbs and iridescent carapaces, their faces frozen in a final, silent scream. There were statues of what looked like feathered humanoids, their bodies partially dissolved by Void-Acidity (the corrosive energy left by the cosmic predator).

“This portal is not asking permission.” The widening pulse shot across the room like a tidal wave of cold. The wolves screamed again and ducked behind various pieces of furniture that offered no real protection. Lucian ducked under the table. “Why is it getting bigger? Why is it getting so much bigger? What is coming next? Another stag. A frost bear. A frost dragon. A frost baby.” “There are no frost babies,” I said. “Are you sure,” he asked. “No,” I admitted. Marek pressed closer to me. “What does it want now?”

I could already tell the was regretting tagging along with us. “There are so many worlds out there,” Marucs began. “Worlds that are flourishing, worlds that are thriving, and the ones that are dying.” I glanced at Elvira who had on a stoic face. If what Marcus said had affected her. she did not show it. I peered back at the projector. It showed an image of earth being surrounded by other replicas of earth but with slight and subtle differences. Marcus flicked to the next image and I saw different creatures. Men and women with tails of fishes. Under the images was a word scribbled: The Merpeople. I saw men with pointed ears, long noses, sharp teeth with scaly wings flaring from their backs. U

It only created more questions. ………………………………..................................................................... We continued deeper into the underground passage after the voices disappeared and the walls became smoother as if they had once belonged to an ancient temple rather than a forgotten basement. I noticed strange symbols had been carved into nearly every surface, some resembled wolves beneath a full moon and others showed creatures I didn't recognize. I stopped in front of one faded painting on the wall. There was a woman who was standing in the center, wearing a crescent shaped pendant identical to the one hidden beneath my shirt and around her, dozens of wolves bowed their heads.

At the end of the corridor, right in front of the heavy tank doors of the laboratory tract, began crack the ice on the walls. Several sharp, crystalline stalactites broke by the ceiling and fell to the ground – but they did not fragment. Instead began the bluish ice masses are deformed and drawn into one another. In front of our eyes, two massive security drones formed in the Old World. They had no wheels or wings; their hull structures consisted of the hard, cryogenic ice cream around the rusted skeleton of old consortium combat robots had wrapped. In their iron arms, heavy, integrated frost cannons buzzed,

comes on, the light comes from Valerie's bag " did she leave her fucking phone here ooh my God Val" I said bringing out the phone, surprisingly it's not locked, another ping it's an image, there are all images. I open one and it takes me to her gallery and what I see blows my fucking mind, it's a picture from 2001 That's the opening day of Frost academy, in the picture I see Coach Frost standing at the right side beside a man holding the scissors to cut the ribbon, opposite him is a lady that looked so much like Valerie and Arianna but she had Arianna's eyes, standing next to her is what I think is the island owner. looking down at the picture their names is written down the woman's name is

"Lyra... the mountain... it's waking up." Before I could ask what his wolf sensed, a sudden, deafening crack echoed from the high peaks above us—a sound like a localized thunderclap that made the massive timber frame of the sled violently shudder. It wasn't an avalanche. The vertical ice wall of the glacier to our right suddenly fractured, a massive fissure ripping open along the blue face of the ice. From the dark, freezing depths of the newly opened chasm, a towering, serpentine silhouette emerged, its scales made of pure, translucent ice that caught the dim light of the storm. It was a Frost-Wyrm of the high rifts—an ancient, territorial leviathan that had slept beneath the glacier since

And from the hole— Ice. Not water. Not snow. Living ice, pulsing and jagged, climbed upward like claws. It didn’t glisten. It devoured the light around it. Frozen smoke coiled as the temperature dropped in a heartbeat. My lips cracked. My breath came out as sharp crystal. The witches began to shiver—but they held the spell. A clawed hand emerged from the pit—long, feminine, jointed wrong. Gloved in shadow. Frost-tipped. Then—