Michael Morbius Novels & Stories

I don’t know the voice before I recognize the face. “Fuck”, I say under my breath, “Brandon". He is one of the few kills in my career that I couldn’t accomplish. He stares at me with deep brown eyes fixed inside deep sockets. His skin is almost the complexion of coal. 6'9 and all shoulders, he towers over all of us. Muscles from a naturally active lifestyle ripple under his taut skin. He watches me out of the corner of his eye, and I can tell he wants to kill me---shoot me.

It was almost comical, but then again, I wouldn’t expect anything normal from that guy. “You deranged motherfucker . . .” I murmur, crumpling the note in my hand. I should have expected this. He’s a Morozov—the head of Morozov. That unforgiving Russian Billionaire who got his eyes as a curse. They say it’s the color of every blood he drained off of his victim’s bodies—the only bad thing that revealed a murderer was behind that beautiful, godly face. I shouldn’t have become too reliant just because of a provocative lap dance, or how he carried me back home.

A trained operator stood by, waiting for instructions, his face unreadable. Around the room, an endless line of men waited their turn. Dante scanned them. Each one had sworn loyalty. Each one had killed for him. But that meant nothing now. Traitors were among them. “Let’s begin,” he commanded, voice cold and steady. Fabio gave a nod to the polygraph operator. The first man stepped forward. Jacobo. Dante watched in silence as he approached—tall, broad-shouldered, knuckles scarred, with the expression of a man who’d seen too much. One of Dante’s most trusted men. But trust didn’t matter now.

"She always finds out. You don't know my mama." Voss straightens. His patience hasn't broken. It's not that kind of patience. It's the deep cold kind that doesn't break, only shifts methods. He turns slightly and nods toward the kind-voiced man. The kind-voiced man reaches into his jacket. He takes out something small. A vial. Dark liquid inside that catches the moonlight in a way that makes my stomach do something cold and involuntary. He walks toward me slowly. And even though I don't know exactly what it is, my body knows. The thing under my skin knows. The weather inside me spikes so suddenly and so hard that I have to press both hands flat against the log to keep from reacting.

The two bloodsuckers Mikali was holding at gunpoint in a dark cavern looked exactly like what Jo had been imagining when she’d picked out two potential snitches in her mind. Both of them were groveling on the ground, sweat pouring from their undead foreheads as they pleaded with the Guardian to let them go. Mikali was glaring at them, standing at his full height, which had to be at least six three since he towered over Jo, alternating the target at the end of his Beretta from one sniveling bastard to the other.

Victim of His Obsession By: bleed4more Prologue I really don’t think that I will be in this situation. I wasn’t prepared for this, I knew to myself that I’m not that good to be admire this much. I never wanted to be like this, to become a fool by myself. My name is Xencia Enclovia Morcos, I am being rejected by anyone. Trying to fit in, but it doesn’t suit me. Insecure, judge by the others, low level woman and a no one. That’s how I see myself.

Pieces of its brain sprang to the floor. This man is Azrael Cross. A legendary assassin under The Association, he has completed several high-level assassinations including big mafia bosses and drug cartel bosses. These high-level assassinations were attempted by many but only Azrael was able to do so, the member of The association had great respect for him. Click! Click! Azrael's camera sounds. He took a photo of Leo's body to confirm his death to his client and this is also one of the required procedures that the assassin must follow no matter what happens. After that, he immediately sent these photos to them.

But also noticed that the situation is complicated, just like if she wants to hook that vampire she needs to catch its master. “Can you explain what is hybrid and who is Harris Cliff?” Elsa asked looking at the man but keeping her steps close to him because if a step would miss, the next second she literally had to run to coop up with him. “Yes, I’ve killed Harris Cliff’s parents,” Gabriel paused as he said and Elsa paused with him. Her stare at him was a question that why he had numerous murders on his hand. Doesn’t he know how to forgive? “Oh, your eyes complaining to me, sweetheart,” Gabriel smirked his hand reached to touch her cheek but Elsa stopped him by shoving his hand.

ALEXANDER My father and sister were both pretty fucked-up, but, damn, Blake was sick. Because we had to make do with what was available in the casino, which wasn’t much, Blake had a bunch of his warriors holding the members of the Bois Sombre Pack down while he tortured them. They were both fully naked after being forced into their human forms. Chef’s knives were brought in from the kitchen, and Blake tested each one of them out on the men’s torsos until he figured out which one was the sharpest, their ensuing screams widening his smile, his eyes gleaming.

He definitely had enough life to walk and it was even easier for me because he could not even see me because of not enough light around. –--- ~ FLASHBACK ~ –---- He staggered towards his car and I cut him off as Thunder on the empty highway on his way home. Now even if someone saw me, it would be very difficult for them to know that I am Nicholas, a well-known professor at Silver Valley High. And now it was going to be even more fun to torture him. Seeing me — Thunder — he started backing his car out of fear, but when I climbed on his car and started hitting his roof, he tried to run away like an uncontrollable rat out of fear.