Madman Marvel Novels & Stories

Spine-chilling laughter escaped my lips, and it silenced the b*stards for a moment. Jasmine snarled in disgust, "What's so funny? Have you gone mad?" I didn't answer her. Instead, I spat out blood and dug into the deepest layer of my tactical backpack. The original Jason spent all his savings getting this high-frequency military-grade concussion grenade from the black market. He was going to use it on the Zombie King and take it down with him. Now, I was going to use this on these jerks.

Charlie’s face shifted from pale to flushed, his hands waving frantically as he shouted, yet every pore radiated panic. Clearly, he thought Conrad had lost his mind—that every word was a lie. Apparently, he was the only one in the household completely unaware of the family’s dark secrets. In his eyes, he was the sole heir of a happy family. Then Charlie lunged toward me, shaking my shoulders violently. “You see, Kendall? I warned you! He’s insane! He’s ranting with lies again! “And you married him? Ha! Are you stupid? You must regret it by now!”

"Though, I suppose it was my fault for getting a little too comfortable. Anyway, is there something you're supposed to tell me?" The man spat a glob of blood onto the concrete near Zandrei's polished shoes. "You think you're powerful," he rasped, his voice a hoarse croak. "You’re just a street gangster." He scoffed, like a wet, gurgling sound. A flicker of surprise crossed Zandrei's face, quickly replaced by a look of dark, intrigued amusement. "Oh. So you do speak," he purred with a genuine smile finally gracing his lips. It was not a smile of warmth, but of a predator who had just been presented with a delightful challenge.

She stood like a fool, tongue-tied. "Answer me" He snapped and she flinched. Her tongue refused to give in. "Marciella" The underlying warning in that cold tone forced her to speak. "I-I don't know. Eric talks about a lot of things like Alana, his children, and even abstract things. He's unstable, Yaki. I don't think you should ask questions based on the words of a maniac...I mean unstable man" She said, keeping her eyes to the ground.

A tattoo of thorny veins wraps around his right arm, snaking from his wrist to his shoulder. I quickly looked away. This was a man dubbed the Mad Doctor because he killed his parents at only eleven. He is dangerous. And definitely not someone I should be ogling.

We don't retreat. We sharpen. And somewhere underneath all the sarcasm and fake escape plans, something inside me shifts anyway. The moon hangs pale outside my bedroom window. Tomorrow it'll be full. Tomorrow somebody will probably get bonded whether they like it or not. Tomorrow half the wolves in the territory will lose their minds. I close my eyes slowly. "Let the moon do its worst," I whisper. Because if there's going to be madness tomorrow— it won't just belong to the moon.

He said in agony, "So she thought that we were going to celebrate her birthday. Damn it! What have I done? How could I forget her birthday? I promised to celebrate every birthday with her. Not only did I not celebrate it with her, but I also suspected that she added peanut butter to the cake and made Maeve have an allergic reaction. Was she very upset when she came back to get her luggage?" The domineering mafia leader slumped on the couch, burying his face tiredly in his hands as he spoke to Alfred in a low and hoarse voice. Alfred hesitated for a moment before answering truthfully, "Mr. Cole, she wasn't sad. She was very calm and even told us to take good care of you and Mr. Jasper." Felix

It was incredible how the king did not think about killing him because of his temper. But the way Kenneth looked at him the first time they met was what drove him insane. A monster like the Mad King could never look at someone in such a gentle way, and yet he did. He saw sadness and pain the moment their same feline eyes landed on each other. Keith was looking at himself, but fiercer and stronger, and the scar crossing his right eye could not leave his mind. It was difficult to keep hating him after seeing that look on his face.

Harlow laughed with Dante, and then turned dead serious as he gripped Dante’s throat saying, “I might look that way, but I’ve got hands, and my hands are magical; I can cut, carve and chop.” Dante was afraid on the inside, he didn’t want to lose his son, but he knew that the boss whom he referred to as the mastermind would end his entire bloodline if he uttered anything. Alessandro was less ruthless than the mastermind, so Dante decided to keep playing around until the mastermind himself would come to his aid as he had promised. Harlow loosened his grip on Dante’s throat upon Alessandro’s orders. “Dante Jovie, for your misconduct, you will lose your arm, your right one of course. Since it la

We both may be crazy. Entering into the small coffee shop, we take a seat and give the waitress our orders. The man doesn’t speak until our orders arrive. “So,” I say when the waitress leaves. The man grins, chuckling softly. “Well I see you’re not one for chit chat,” he says, amusement again on his face. “Good news is you’re not insane. The bad news is all that you think is a hallucination isn’t. It did happen. Last night you did see your body contort into something else until you blacked out from the trauma, pain, and the beast taking over.”