Light Gore Novels & Stories

“Where is Sabrina Sobol? I know you took her, Yana told us everything.” Timo grinned and his teeth were stained red with his own blood. “She sure was a screamer, that one.” Lev was now glad that he’d left Nikita at the compound to watch Hunter because this motherfucker in front of him would’ve already been dead. Gage walked past Lev with a blowtorch in his hands and lit it up. “Did you know that the penis is basically muscle and cartilage? The soft skin of your balls will actually shrivel as they burn. This flame is so hot that it might take a minute or two for the pain to register, but once it does, Hudson over there is going to need a fucking towel with the way his dick is going to leak pr

Loreen pretended to be in the shower meanwhile, she was waiting there for the most perfect timing. “I'll soon be out," She said, weakly. Her voice was as weak an dry as anything. After Mario had taken more than two sips, she could hear him choking on his drink and coughing. He was choking till he grabbed his throat with his palm, foam was rushing out of his mouth. Without hesitation, Loreen ran out of the bathroom with a silver knife in her hand. Immediately, she stabbed his chest(heart region). She lacked enough strength but because she knew she was dead if she failed, her wolf charged surprisingly.

I gasped. Lunar Eclipse was more of a pack of mercenaries. No one knew the real names of the pack members, as they all had some sort of code name. The Alpha of the pack was known as Shadowstrike. Shadowstrike was considered the ultimate warrior, with skills that a normal werewolf didn’t possess. He could strike his opponents down with a single blow, but it wasn’t just because he was strong. There was a rumor that he could expel some sort of energy in his attacks that could knock someone down without ever touching them.

And from this distance, I wasn’t supposed to be able to hear a damn thing but my hyper fixation on them made it very easy to. “Eyes front, Cara Mia,” he said to her while the endearment he used, my love, felt like acid against my own veins. Her spine went rigid, her eyes fluttering as she forced her gaze away from me and fixed it forward instead. Like she was ignoring me. My jaw locked as my nails pressed into my palm so hard I could swear that I had drawn my own blood. But then I exhaled slowly. The rage didn’t fade, not at all, it just settled. It had to. For now.

Now, only power spoke. Gloria knelt first, laying a talon-shaped blade across her knees. Its hilt was carved from bone that pulsed faintly in the darkness, like a heartbeat echoing through the ground. The air grew colder around her, coiling like serpents, and her lips moved without sound. The frost crawling along her skin wasn’t entirely natural; it was the blade calling to her, the spirits whispering their obedience.

A sharp, blinding agony erupted in my chest, and my vision instantly blurred as blood poured from the wound. "Burn it," Lorenzo commanded, standing up and wiping his hands with his handkerchief before tossing it onto my mother’s body. "Make it look like an accidental electrical fire. Leave nothing." They poured gasoline over the furniture, the curtains, and the bodies of my family. Someone flicked a gold lighter, dropping it onto the floor. The flames roared to life, consuming the room in a wall of suffocating heat and black smoke.

His lavender eyes scanned me, observing both the saline drip and blood IV that I was hooked up too. His gaze shifted to my left arm. A thick, black polyester sleeve was fitted over my forearm, holding together three layers of cotton gauze pads and bandages that were stacked over the stitches holding together the sliced skin. "I don't have to tell you how absolutely stupid that was," Cain said, his voice cutting through the tension that loomed between US. "You don't," I replied, looking up from my arm to him. He said nothing else, just looked at me with an unreadable expression.

Staring straight into Lorenzo’s eyes. Lorenzo’s jaws clenched, but he remains blank. “Do it.” Gustav whispers, “Fucking do it.” The room seems to hold its breath as Lorenzo’s gaze hardened, it is fixated on Gustav’s figure. His finger trembling on the trigger, a single tear runs down Lorenzo’s face as betrayal and sorrow fill his aura.

Before Jarek could recover his momentum, I drove my bare palm directly into his armored chest. The impact sounded like a shotgun blast echoing through the dungeon. The heavy silver-stitched leather over his sternum shattered inward, the bone cracking beneath my fingers with a wet, splintering sound. Jarek flew backward through the air, his massive body smashing hard into the stone pillar behind Killian, coughing up a thick spray of dark Lycan blood before collapsing into the dirt, motionless. The silence that followed was suffocating. The golden mist rising from my blood on the floor began to settle, coating the room in an intoxicating, sweet aroma.

But this— this was something else. Lorenzo’s hand hovered over the knives over the taser before settling on the branding iron. He held it up, its blackened steel tip catching the light. Then he reached for the lighter, flicked it open, and fire hissed to life. He placed the iron above the flame. The hiss grew louder, sharper. Jace could smell it metal warming, the promise of agony. “Why?” Jace found himself whispering, though no one heard. The longer the lighter burned, the more the iron glowed. Red at first, then deeper, almost white-hot at the tip. The air shimmered around it.