Monster Gods Novels & Stories

Emotions had run wild between now and then; excitement, disbelief, discontent, rage, and now a thoughtful silence pervading the four walls like a thick blanket that lulls her back to the bay of sleep’s arms. Avian dips the feathered tip into the glass bottle and carefully lowers it onto the page where she had left, just beneath the grotesque sketch of an original Lycanthrope she had attempted whilst still in the throes of energy. “… Average of ten feet tall, five hundred pounds of muscle and fur that is impervious to the war instruments of man.” The high priest stands at the front left, his cheeks like emptied udders that tremble with each breath, “tapetum lucidum…” highly sensitised night v

They had such an excellent bond based on their likes and dislikes. The real Monster had not yet finished, but had just started. She would awaken Luther's true monster. She would destroy him and his family. She would make Noelle's life an absolute hell. This is the second part of Monster. *********

The enemy looks up—and freezes. They didn’t know we called in Heaven. They didn’t know they were going to die today. Every god had been told: find another god and take them down. One at a time. Take them out. So when I see him—Moros, the god of doom—I make my move.

Seconds later, the sound of large wings disturbing the air drew Nya’s eyes skyward. He appeared over the moon first, as he always seemed to do, pausing there, silhouetted by the silver light, his red and black scales glimmering. Looking up at him, it was hard to think of him as anything other than a magnificent winged creature, a legendary, mythological being of mass proportion. Nya’s mouth dropped open as she gazed up at him, her awe temporarily disturbing her mission.

The monsters are the ones who lose their children and sit down to cry. I do not sit. I take back what’s mine. Yes, Veronica, the spoiled girl, is dead. Crimson Rogue has taken her place.

• Dubious consent / non-consensual themes (coercion, power imbalances) • Obsession & possessiveness (stalking, toxic attachment, unhealthy control) • Graphic violence & gore (blood, injury, death, explicit descriptions) • Torture & pain infliction (psychological and physical torment) • Cults & rituals (dark family traditions, blood oaths, disturbing ceremonies) • Abuse & trauma (emotional, physical, sexual abuse) • Murder & death (brutal character deaths) • Isolation & captivity (locked rooms, restricted freedom, control) • Morally gray / villainous characters (no true heroes) • Betrayal & deception (hidden agendas, mind-breaking revelations) • Power imbalance & age gap (control and submissi

he said. "Hm" I nodded in agreement. "So, thousands of years ago, the moon goddess only created three supernatural beings, which consisted of my dad, mom and another man -his name is Oak... " "Oak?" I cut in. "Yeah" I laughed briefly at the name. "Oak,it sounds so weird, just like your name" I said and laughed again. "My name doesn't sound weird" he defended his name. "Oh, really?" he nodded. "Wymond, doesn't that sound like wayward?" I asked.

Jeff asked angrily. "Don't stop me Jeff, this is my decision!" The look in Brizella's eyes turned yellowish, making Jeff finally believe Chloe's words that Brizella was a goddess "You haven't told me anything about your life, Brizel! I already know that you are the seventh goddess of the werewolf race who will destroy the vampires. You are the medicine for the werewolves so that they can live in peace," Jeff said, making Brizella roll her eyes. How did Jeff know that? She hadn't told him anything.

“The Great War? What the fuck is that?” She continued without blinking. “A hundred years ago, the wolf people's greatest enemy returned. The stories say the MoonGoddess—some call her the Blessed Luna—and her fated mate, the Alpha King, sealed away a creature older than time. A creature with no form. It doesn't kill with claws or teeth. It possesses.” My breath hitched. “Possesses... like the black fog,” I whispered. Her face darkened. “Exactly. A seeping, shape-shifting mass of malice. It feeds on hatred, anger, regret… all the things you bury deep. It turns wolves into monsters. Only a few are born able to see it. Even fewer can cleanse it.”

It still smelled like him. She curled around it under the blankets, the fabric held tightly to her chest. Her body ached - not with pain, but with the longing that had no cure. Sleep came slowly, and then all at once. It began with fire. Not the kind that burned villages or swept through forests - but celestial fire. Divine. The sky cracked open with molten light, and from it descended gods. Lyra stood frozen amidst chaos. They weren’t werewolves. Not Lycans. Not creatures of the earth. They were something older, terrible in their beauty and rage. The Moon Goddess shone brightest among them - silver and ice and blood, her eyes like the edge of a blade.