King Crimson Requiem Novels & Stories

**Blood Rain** layers on top—corrosive violet downpour. The Court rides with me. Seras sunrise-nukes the skull swarm. Lucian dragonfire melts the bone constructs. Kayo’s tails guillotine the lesser lords. Rowan erases timelines with a word. Nerida eats the void leaks. Remy and I tandem the boss. I **Crimson Forge** blood armor around us. He coyote-gold claws the echo’s face. I speak Line 777—contract void. The echo screams. I finish with **Sanguine Eclipse**.

The only ones standing between the immortal army and an apocalyptic buffet. | {Tears of blood, tears of blood} {Will the sadness ever end?} {Tears of blood, tears of blood} {Let me lick them all away} {Before you drown the world.} | The combined sound of Septimus’s playing and my singing has amplifies our powers and created a giant dome bubble of protection that the Ravens are unable to penetrate. | {I ripped the heart out of your sacrifice} {Unholy Communion body of Christ} {I ate the heart I ate the head I ate the miracle}

When we reached the pack house, some of the pack members, including the Beta are waiting for us outside. "Welcome to the house of Lestat," the Beta welcomed us. "Thank you, Tarik," Lucien acknowledged by nodding his head. So the Beta's name is Tarik. Tarik led us inside the mansion. The pack house of Crimson Pack is a Tudor-style mansion. It is mostly made of bricks and its interior screams power. Sculptures of the former Alphas are placed on each side of the aisle. I roamed my eyes around to check if there are normal beings but I only saw the scrutinizing stares from the pack members.

A king could not afford to show weakness. Drawing in a shuddering breath, I reopened my eyes, fixing each general with a scorching glare. "See to the dead. Prepare a royal funeral with full honors. The crown will provide for the families of the dead. This is an act of war, and the Crimson Kingdom does not cower. We will have justice. We will have vengeance, this I swear."

Music pulsed low—dark synthwave mixed with classical strings—creating an atmosphere that felt both elegant and predatory. Nico and the queens entered first. Black and crimson dominated their outfits—silver and deep violet accents glinting under the lights, leather and charcoal gray textures catching every movement. Matching fang wristbands gleamed on every left wrist: black leather, crimson/silver/violet fangs embossed in intricate detail. They walked as one—Nico in the center, Elara and Liora on either side (legs brushing his), Ravenna and Seraphina behind (hands linked), Celeste and Remy flanking like silent guardians.

He returned a minute later, holding a small, crystal decanter filled with a liquid that swirled with deep, luminescent crimson—like captured memory and blood. The Crimson Reminiscence. A rare, potent elixir that compelled absolute truth from a vampire for a short time. It was not used lightly. It stripped away all pretense, all defense. Without a word, he uncorked it and drank. His eyes closed for a moment, and when they opened, they held a raw, vulnerable intensity I had never seen.

“And do you swear to respect every member of this community, to listen when needed, to be compassionate when necessary, and firm when required.” “I swear.” The Royal Celerant lifted the crown. Royal blue crystals reflected with ambient light, shimmering like frozen moonlight. Silver filigree twisted through the design, ancient symbols etched into every angle. It was heavy, majestic, unmistakably crafted for an Alpha King. “Then by the power vested in my as Royal Celerant, I crown you… Alpha Damian Blake, ALPHA KING OF KRIDENSYA.” He pleaded the crown gently on Damian’s head. Damian rose gently, slowly, powerful, regal.

Raymond’s POV The first thing that struck me was the sound. The arena was alive with it—rolling waves of voices, cries, growls, chants, all mixing together until it no longer sounded like language, but like the roar of a storm. I stood just behind Jude’s platform, half-hidden in the shadows, clutching the railing so tightly my hands ached. The Crimson Arena was vast, carved out of black stone and ringed with fire that burned with unnatural colors—purple, green, and deep crimson. The flames licked upward as though they fed not on oil or wood, but on something living. The smell made me gag.

wind ripping his cloak to shreds behind him, eyes fixed on the orchard line where the blackened stumps rose from the snow like teeth too stubborn to rot. Selena pressed her palm to the altar stone, roots curling around her wrist like bracelets of dirt and bone. She looked up at him when he spoke. "No more crests," Kieran said. His voice was the hush itself now , not loud, but full enough that the orchard seemed to breathe it through every root. "No more crowns to bury. No more oaths we don't feed with blood." Cassius slammed his spear butt into the mud, the crack echoing through the chapel vault. "No more graves." Elric's laugh rattled the frost on the rafters. "Only roots." Selena drew her

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.