Larry Monster Novels & Stories

They were filling her in on what the Compliant said when Dominic burst in gasping, "Something is wrong with Larry and other pack members, they're…" In a flash, they were all running out of the study to where Larry was. The Pack's bond was thrown into confusion. Some pack members were trying to figure out what was happening and others were behaving erratically because of the moon. Larry was sprawled on the floor, his body writhed and twisted in uncommon shapes, just outside Andrew's mansion as he cried out in agony. Though the sounds of his bones breaking and the smell of sweaty animal fur could be heard and perceived, Larry remained in human form.

We looked like a family that belonged together, a family that existed outside the orbit of scandal and strategy. I felt a lump form in my throat, thick and painful. I had spent so much time painting Larry as the villain in my story, the cold, calculating architect of my misery. But looking at this photo, hidden away on his private desk where only he could see it, the image cracked. Larry wasn’t a monster. He was a man who was so terrified of losing what he had that he didn’t know how to hold onto it without crushing it. He was a man who watched his life from the sidelines, capturing moments of joy because he didn't know how to step into them.

I am, on the other hand, completely speechless. Marcus strides toward Gary, and I expect a blood bath. Marcus is huge, but I remember Gary can be too. Gary can transform into a building if he feels like it. He isn't like any of us. He is an actual monster from the other world, and I had no idea how powerful. "Be careful, Marcus. Gary isn't as cute as he looks," I warn Marcus. "Sure I am." Gary stuffs another large carrot in his mouth. He takes his time chewing it, then opens his mouth to speak again. "Just so you know, I can stuff larger things in my mouth, my delicious piece of Mocha latte, you."

he croaks, his head lowered. "Warned me about what?" "I'm not just a werewolf, dove. I'm worse. Much worse. There are many monsters in my world, you see? But among all of them, I am the monster they all fear." My stomach churns as my fear grows. He's unfolding another layer of himself, and I'm not sure if I'm ready for it. "W-what do you mean?" "I'm a tribrid. Three creatures exist inside of me. But at the same time, they're unified. I am a werewolf, a vampire, and a—"

He said clearing his throat. My eyes widened taking in the top layer of my bosom on exhibition, before falling back against the pillow covering myself from head to toe, completely embarrassed. "Oh great just what we need, more vampires, " Larry says and I peak from beneath my layers. He walks away from the window heading towards the door. "I left lunch. Be quiet okay? The last thing we need is them sniffing around. And stay away from the shower, got it? "

“I think they are probably made of the dark. They come in when you don’t pay attention. That’s when they arrive.” “Then what happens?” “And then they take you back to their … not burrow. What’s a word that’s like burrow?” “Den?” “No, it’s not a den.” “Lair?” The boy was silent for a moment. He squeezed Ed’s hand and stopped talking. Then, “Yes, that’s the word, lair.” “Okay, so these monsters take the people who don’t pay attention back to their lair. And then what do your monsters do? Do they suck all the blood out like vampires?”

Sarah had finished eating dinner and was watching one of her favorite cartoons while we waited for her babysitter to arrive. Sarah’s babysitter, Cory, arrived about half an hour later. She complimented me and told me how beautiful I was. Sarah started crying, saying she wanted to go with me and Roman to have fun, but I didn’t want her to go because Levi would be there, along with a lot of people.

“You truly don't comprehend why your actions slaughtered my respect for you.” Ronan’s features twisted with offense, his hand launching forward to clamp around my forearm like a steel trap. “What flaw could you possibly find in my rank?” I wrenched my arm back, twisting my wrist to snap his grip, but before our wolves could fully engage, the bunker door flew open. Richie Larson charged into the corridor, his eyes fully gold as his upper lip pulled back to reveal his fangs.

Her eyes meet mine one last time, and there is something unspoken there—something heavy with expectation. “You chose to become the monster,” she says quietly. “Now learn what it means to wield it.” And just like that, the path forward is no longer theoretical. It has a destination. And a name. The Butcher. And somewhere deep inside me, something ancient and unfamiliar stirs—like it’s been waiting for this war far longer than I have. We pack in quiet motion. Mae moves through Ilythra’s home like she’s afraid of touching things too hard, like the walls might whisper secrets if she brushes them wrong. I’m stuffing clothes into my bag—things that already feel like remnants of another life—when I

Abel thought grimly as he slipped deeper into the dark, “to stop chasing this monster.” This was no longer about history. It was time for catching monsters.