Manic X Scourge Novels & Stories

Alfi satirized him. “Oh, what a fearsome tone you had there. Do you want to kill me? Don’t you know how dangerous sin for killing? You can be dragged to Hell, you know?” ‘shut the fuck up! Look who’s talking!” Alfi exclaimed irritatedly. ”You worship Doujinshi. You are not only sinful but also stupid.” He added. Suddenly Manik casts something like a white orb from his hand to Alfi. Alfi then nullifies it by hitting it with Tipit. Manik is seen enveloped in his white Iru, ready to defeat Alfi.

He didn't look like a Prince here; he looked like a ghost haunting the ruins of his father’s empire. A low, guttural rumble vibrated through the floor before a pair of headlights cut through the gloom. A battered truck screeched to a halt twenty feet away. From the driver’s side stepped a man who looked like he had been put back together by a blind surgeon—Varick, the leader of the Scourge Rogues. He was a mountain of scarred flesh and unwashed fur, his eyes glowing with the unstable yellow light of a wolf who had spent too long away from the civilizing influence of a pack. "You’re a brave one, Little Prince," Varick rasped, his voice sounding like dry leaves skittering over a grave. "Or a v

He is so happy because he will finally be able to escape this chaotic world and they will be able to fulfill the simple dream of Akira and his as a normal couple. When he arrived at the condo, he immediately took a shower first to be able to clean and to make sure if he hadn't been scratched before. As the water flows through his body you can see the blood of his victims clinging to him gradually flowing into the sink. Azrael’s body is full of scars from his wounds from his previous missions and on his back is a large tattoo— “Deus Mortis” which in Latin means “God of death” is what the organization called him because of the number of impossible missions he has accomplished.

After that, there was chaos. There were some driven crazy by the constant torture and they started a killing spree, killing anything that looked remotely human, but there was one unlike the rest of them. He didn't have a single scar; he was completely fine, even handsome. You would think he was a normal person if not for his eyes. They looked lifeless and at the same time murderous. He moved quickly through the mess of horrifying screams and blood. He was like a ghost that was floating.

I took the hospital gown which Nicole had thrown over to me and quickly disappeared behind the curtain I had changed behind earlier on, shifting back into my human form, I hissed as I finally felt the effects of the wound. The pain was worse than what I had been feeling in my neck two days' ago and when I looked down at the size of the wound, I knew that I was going to have another scar to add to the collection I was slowly gathering. But at least this one was a real battle wound. Damn silver. I am going to have to have words with the Moon Goddess about that. You do that and perhaps I won't have a hideous scar to show for my idiocy once the would heals.

This man almost doubled his muscle mass. His dark brown hair had subtle streaks of red throughout. His eyes were green with hints of gold. They were the most amazing things I had ever seen. Looking at him made my heart pound. His eyes were focused on mine as he held my gaze. The scar on the left side of his neck was faded, the sight of it enraged me. I didn’t know why I was so upset about him being hurt. I felt myself begin to get lost in his eyes when my mind snapped me out of it.

Scout: "It's taking place once more. They're luring more pack members to the cliffs. Three of us have already lost. My stomach sinks. It wasn't over, I knew. Even if I can no longer hear the tune, it continues to captivate others. "We must put an end to this before more are lost," said Xander. His face is gloomy as he turns to face me. Xander: "They're controlling us with magic and terror. We must figure out how to end the curse. I nod, my heart seized with horror. We never realized how deadly the marine pack is. They aim to rule us and destroy us from the inside out, not just take our wealth or territory.

It smelt rotten and it made me want to throw up. That was when I remembered the rotten smell of the old man at the event. Why had his scent made me feel so uneasy? I immediately remembered my father's words. He had once told me of a certain group of rogues who were of werewolf and witch origin— otherwise known as Hybrids. He had told me that they were known for their great skill of making poison and since they spent so much time in the act, the scent of rotten plants stuck to them as a price to be paid.

“Let you go? You are so fucking stupid, Camile. Always have been.” He stepped closer, his boots scraping the grimy floor, and the scent of stale bourbon and sweat hit me like a wave. Up close, the madness was etched into every line of his face, twitching muscles, dilated pupils that darted erratically, a sheen of sweat on his brow that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. I yanked at the ropes, ignoring the bite into my skin. “Untie me, Zane,” I demanded. “This is insane. Whatever you're doing, it ends now.”

Maybe more. Their bodies were wrong. Twisted. Muscles too tight beneath patchy fur, veins darkened with something unnatural. The scent of decay rolled off them like a wave. One of them stepped forward slowly. Its head tilted slightly. A grin stretched across its distorted face. “King Xavier.” Even its voice sounded wrong. Like someone else was speaking through it. Marcus exploded with rage. ‘Kill it.’ The rogue’s crimson eyes gleamed. “Our master sends his greetings.” My claws slid free with a metallic scrape. “Then you can send him mine.”