Mad God Novels & Stories

"System." A translucent blue hologram materialized instantly. On the left was his personal status. [Name: Jake Maddox] [Race: Human] [Status: Healthy (Mild Hunger)] [Sanity: 100/100] (Note: Below 30, suicidal thoughts. Below 20, auditory hallucinations. Below 10, total madness.) [Mind: 5] (Note: Average adult value. Higher Mind = better sanity resistance and faster recovery.) [Physique: 5]

' Immediately, an immerse pain spreads out from my neck and slowly makes it way below but it is suddenly gone as swiftly as it comes. Nathan pulls back and stares at me with yellow eyes and extended canines. I can see my blood on them. "Y-You marked me, how is that possible." "I'm a god, remember." He smirks as his canines slowly retreats. "And I am a great friend of the Moon Goddess." "That doesn't explain why you marked me." I glare at him and push him away. "What is wrong with you, sometimes you do the stupidest things."

He picked it up from the rusty ground, pocketed it, and kept moving. The eagle mount was burning, flames fueled by the lingering spirit of the dead salamander. The fire consumed the carcasses, drawing a blazing line along the front of Mad End’s Wall. Gildeon heard Ghulik’s small footsteps behind him. The goblin mumbled like a madman, spewing out a story about salamanders and sylphs losing their sanity upon contact with the wall. If that were true, then the sigilmaker would be useless to the army.

“That wasn’t what your body wanted last night, little orchid. You were squirming underneath us, begging for more.” Heat flushed to her cheeks, staining them red. Even when she was embarrassed, I still wanted her. What kind of goddess is she? “That was before I knew you were monsters! Literal monsters! He has shadows for the moon goddess's sake! He can kill just by forming his hands and plunging them into people! Why would I want to serve you after that!” “I won’t kill you,” I stepped closer. “Listen to my brother, if you’re with us, nothing would come near you. No harm. You’ll enjoy…

the goddess shakes her head disagreeing. "There's no need for that my child. You are strong enough to control it. Just don't let your feelings win over your mind." he nodded at the goddess and thanked her. Not that long, the goddess left, he decided to stay a little more. He sighed and think of his mate. He sends a message to him. 'I'm okay and will come back later. I promise'

Theo and said;" sorry young boy about that, as you see i'm an old man sometimes i used to misstep" "misstep", as Theo muttered the word and said to the old," it's ok" and looked at the spoil food and gets up to walk to his house he heard the old man saying:" here take this as an apology, i guess this doesn't value too much, take this and forgive this old man". Theo looked at the thing in old man hand as he can clearly see it was an book, who know because of that book a man whom all the cosmos will fear be created that day.

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His daunting eyes narrowed in on me and he straightened, a smile spreading across his lips and revealing the dimples my dad had mentioned. His beauty struck me like a blow, and I could already feel butterflies swarming in my stomach, his intimidating aura swallowing the entire space around him. Dr. Benjamin Cavanagh. The eccentric billionaire dubbed the Mad Doctor. “Do you see him?” My father crackled in my ear. “Yes.”

"Ezra..." In the dream, I pushed in, thrusting deep and filled him. Bred him. Pumped my seed inside until it dripped out. Marked him. Owned him. His body shook under me. Hands clawing the sheets. But he pushed back—fuck, he pushed back wanting more. I wanted to break him. In the dream. In real life. Bend him until he knelt. Breed him until he worshipped and called me god. I stroked harder, my fist tight and balls drawing up. I imagined pinning him down, spreading his legs wide and fucking him raw. Until he bled. Until he cried. Until he begged for my cum. "Breed me," he'd say. "Make me yours."

God had abandoned Gianna on 13th Street. The place was filled with heroin, gunfire, and the rotting stench of sewers. They also called it the slums. After her parents died in a shooting, her grandmother, Rosa Argento, raised her. Matteo was three years older than she was. When they first met, he was a defiant teenager who had escaped from a fighting ring. He became a target for everyone because of his face, too refined and almost sinister in its beauty, combined with his fierce and untamed nature.