King Crimson Jojo Novels & Stories

The introduction was simple, I was announced to the gathered crowds as a Supreme which drew chattered murmurs from the vampire clans. It made my heart skip everytime a vampire pointed and stared as we pushed our way through the crowd. Jereum just threw cold glares at anyone who came too close. The adjudicator had inscribed a circle with a diagonal slash running through it with a knife dipped in holy water into my left shoulder. Normally my wounds would heal without a mark but this time the inscribed mark healed with a scar. I had been subconsciously kneading the the slightly sore area since we left the building.

"Thank you, Aunt Cleo. This means a lot to me." The pendant Aunt Cleo gave Aqua was nothing short of mesmerizing. Crafted from sterling silver, the pendant was shaped like a delicate crescent moon, symbolizing the mysterious and potent nature of Aqua's powers. At the center of the crescent nestled a large, oval-cut gemstone that was uniquely clear, like a drop of captured morning dew. The clarity of the stone made it particularly special, as it reflected Aqua's emotional state, changing color with her mood. Intricate filigree work adorned the crescent moon, with tiny symbols and runes etched into the silver, each representing protection and strength. The craftsmanship was exquisite, making i

Chris said, witnessing a forced-like pleasantry between the two brothers. "Martyr is the right term for our friend." Ken added while shaking his head. The event hall suddenly dimmed, no more jazz music playing. The huge monitor screen on the stage flashed and started to display a recognitory VR of Crimson. It is showcasing the immense achievements of Crimson in its first year along with the overwhelming grandeur aesthetics and the hardworking employees of the hotel. Carol appeared behind Jeremy. "Sir, the VR will finish in a few minutes. Please get ready." Jeremy just nodded. Carol then rushed to the side of the stage where the event team is.

“Can't tell you much. She is merely a tool.” A few heads turned when Elias finally laughed. “Oh, Joachim. You are an awful liar. You are still repeating the same thing you told me on Staten island, eh?” He picked his glass. “We have the night to ourselves, feed me some gossip.” I smiled thinly, nursing my drink. With his voice trailing off he leaned forward. “The great Joachim Knight brings a human to The Crimson Veil after a century of not showing interest in anyone. Not just any human either—a boisterous rebellious one who publicly offends Queen Seraphina and survives to prove it.”

Most of the bandages are dyed red from the blood coating them. Plop! Plop! Plop! Horrified, Blake blankly stares at him as blood drips from the bandage wrapped on the upper left shoulder of the boy, his blood quickly forming a pool of blood. Suddenly, the boy turns to look at him, his red, black eyes gleaming in the light. He opens his mouth and speaks dully, “Don’t forget me, if it wasn’t for me, you’d still be suffering in hell, in the dark all alone. Without me you’re nothing, we’re one, whether you want it or not. So, never forget me, ever…!” the hoarse voice echoes through the entire corridor, and his lips are pulled back into a sneer.

"Can you reproduce it?" "We're trying." She sighed. "So far......nothing." The Commander looked around the room. "No one discusses this outside Level Alpha clearance." Every scientist nodded. Captain Mira did the same. Jonas looked toward Sera. She hadn't moved. Her thoughts raced. Project Crimson Hunger. Why had her blood matched forgotten records? Why did Husen seem to recognize something about her from the very beginning? Why had he looked at her injuries instead of finishing the fight? Questions. Always questions.

He had known all along that their family was tied to something supernatural, something dangerous. The journal revealed the existence of a hidden society.—The Crimson Circle—a secretive group that operated in the shadows, monitoring supernatural activity and protecting the balance between realms. Her parents had been members, tasked with guarding a powerful artifact that kept the veil intact. But there was more. Lysandra flipped to a page where her father had drawn a detailed family tree. Her name was connected by a red line that spanned centuries. At the bottom of the page, her father had written: You are the last of the line, Lysandra. The prophecy is tied to you. When the time comes, you m

A hush fell as the Alpha raised his cup. “To the Blood Moon,” he intoned. “To the gift of the Shift.” The pack raised their cups in unison. Voices lifted in a chorus of reverence and then... A second voice split the night. “The cursed daughter will either crown or bury you all.” The words were ragged and eerie and were seeping into every corner of the clearing. A figure stepped from the tree line, crimson robes dragging against the earth, while her blind eyes were glowing faintly white. The Crimson Seer. Gasps rippled through the pack. Some wolves dropped their cups, while others shifted uneasily. No one had invited her. Her pale, sightless gaze locked on me as my skin crawled immediately.

She smiled, “her wolf is one that needs a strong human, not just anyone can control Crimson.” My eyes darted to her and then back to the road, “Crimson, as in blood, fire and brimstone, that type of Crimson?” She sat up straight, “why would you think like that and not that it is just the color red.” I shrugged, “Angel remember, I always think that type of stuff first,” I gave her a shy smile. She nodded, “it doesn’t matter, Crimson is gone with her, unless she is now with someone who didn’t have a wolf.”

The midnight skyline of Port Apex was obscured by a thick fog, turning the massive steel cranes into looming phantoms over the black water. Inside the glass-walled command center of Vance Enterprise, the air was sharp with cold air conditioning. Massive wall monitors glowed with real-time global trade routes, but three major digital corridors stretching from Singapore to Rotterdam had suddenly flashed from deep blue to a stark, ominous crimson. Victoria stood before the central map, a glass of untouched scotch resting in her palm. The amber liquid caught the harsh red glare of the screens. She had discarded her blazer, wearing a sleeveless midnight-black tailored vest over her crisp blouse.