Infernal Calling Novels & Stories

“Can you get over here? Now?” Jo hadn’t been paying any attention to her IAC visuals until his voice demanded she did so. Through his eyes, she could see a dark chamber that appeared to be deep in the cave. Dozens of people were chained to the walls, most of them by just one arm, their bodies slumped on the floor. Some of them appeared to be dead already; others might still be drawing shallow breaths. As Leo’s eyes traced over the scene, she realized what she was looking at. “Reserve de sange,” she said aloud.

Or was it when she made that stupid, vicious bet to test his so-called loyalty and prove her methods to her father? She could no longer tell. She only remembered that she had pushed the boy who truly loved her into the abyss. To the point that in the end, she could not even touch his remains. "Ethan." She stroked the cold name on the tombstone, her voice trembling as she called out to him. "If there's another life, please don't meet me again. There's nothing but suffering if you meet someone like me again." The cold wind howled, sweeping dead leaves from the ground into the dark night sky.

Millions of Void Stalkers, towering Abyssal Behemoths with limbs made of rusted bone, and hovering Seraphs radiating anti-light. A voice, booming and devoid of all emotion, echoed across the alien landscape. "YOU ENTER THE REALM OF THE CREATORS, MORTALS. YOUR FIRE WILL DIE HERE. YOUR FLESH WILL FEED THE DARK." Killian let out a low, vibrating chuckle that translated perfectly through the vacuum of the Void. "Marcus," Killian rumbled, not even bothering to address the disembodied voice of the god. The grizzled Beta, now standing eight feet tall in his molten-infused Lycan form, stepped forward to the edge of our Vanguard.

They chanted in language of things that under the world, things that answer only to desperation and blood. The air became thick. Shadows peeled from the walls and coiled around them like serpents. The ground trembled. But nothing happened. Kieran’s voice rose, very desperate now. He called upon the Hollow Ones, the Whisperers in the Static, the Nameless Watchers who dwell between seconds. He offered memories. Promises. Pieces of his own soul. The power rose, swelled,and crackled in the air like lightning about to strike. Then collapsed. Like a wave retreating from shore.

And I ruined everything. Santo slides his hand over my elbow and pulls me toward the elevators again. He angrily presses the call button and turns to me. His voice has dropped a tone, and I can hear a hint of remorse in it. "Stop crying. It is too late for all that. Do you think I enjoy having to go out and get you? Do you think I get off on seeing you cry or tremble in front of me? Pezzo di merda... (Holy shit*)."

But everything crumpled down when she found out the truth. This is Dark Hades call. He only comes out when there’s death. He only comes out when there’s evil and blood. Because death and darkness are always the demon’s call.

It was a call from the villa! ‘Why the hell is Anna calling and disturbing me??’ --- Adrian was irritated and disconnected the call. He then turned towards Jims and Selina and said, “Terminate the rest of the three, warn the seven Mr Jims is suggesting and watch for a month!” “But Sir, the girl Emi..” Before Selina could talk further Adrian’s mobile again vibrated and this time he became furious and received the call snapping to the caller, “What the hell is your problem Anna??”

Even Azrael stepped back, wings spread in awe. “I am Sarai,” I said, voice ringing through the battlefield, echoing in every shadow, molten vein, and corner of the underworld. “Queen. Wielder. Storm incarnate. And I will not bow.” The figure paused. For a moment, the universe itself seemed to hold its breath. Then, a smile twisted across its face — terrifying, knowing, unending. “So it begins,” it whispered. “And soon… everything will burn.” The underworld trembled violently. Fire and shadow surged around me. The Seraphim lifted, wings snapping. Lilith and Kael readied themselves. Malik’s hand tightened on mine.

I realized, slowly, that if I hadn’t learned to tap into my energy, and hadn't mastered the rhythm of my Core, I never would’ve made it this far north. I pulled my vest tighter and set my jaw. “You cold?” Lucan asked, his voice low, gentle. “No, I’m fine,” I replied, forcing a stiff smile. I was the one who wanted to come, after all. The Black Market was beneath the coldest cave in the stretch of Blackcroft. It was a place whispered to be built atop the graves of the vengeful dead. They said the spirits buried there were the Called who had never become Initiates because their Cores got contaminated and failed the Trial of Mirror.

he intoned ; voice like a furnace’s roar, “I welcome you to my realm of fire.” Nyra stepped forward, her dual-hued hair glinted bronze and night. “King Cyrion, we heed your summons.” He smiled, lips flickered with heat. “You honor me ; but flesh binds more than words.” He beckoned with a flame-wreathed finger. Nyra inhaled ; her runes glowed with infernal pulse. “Show us the ritual.” They descended twisting ramps into the Citadel’s heart : the Infernal Hall. Walls of flowing magma bathed the chamber in a living sunset glow. At center stood a basalt dais ringed by seven fire braziers ; their flames danced blue and gold.