Monsters Randall Novels & Stories

Randall pressed the driver to move faster—until he saw Xandra, he wouldn’t be at ease. When he reached Laura’s secret base, he found no Xandra—only Forrest, utterly drunk, sprawled on the sofa like a dead fish. No joy, no Laura, no Xandra. Randall panicked, grabbing Forrest by the collar. “Where’s Laura?” Forrest woke, groggy, and instinctively clung to Randall’s waist. “Laura… you’re back…” Randall’s brow furrowed. “Do you even know who you’re talking to?”

" I almost laughed at how ridiculous it sounded. I used to think Ophelia was just born rotten. As it turned out, Lauren wasn't any better. Like they say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I shot Lauren a cold glance, then suddenly waved toward the distance, my voice bright. "Mom! You're here!" Lauren jerked her head up and followed my gaze. The operator who had controlled the memory extraction machine that day was striding straight toward us. I looked at the two of them, stunned speechless, and let out a quiet, mocking laugh. "Sorry. I already have a new family now. I have a new mom. If you keep bothering me, I'm calling the police."

It was faster that way, but this night, I planned to savor the torture we were about to unleash. The door opened after what seemed like forever, and there he was. The old bastard. Robert fucking Callaway. Recognition flashed across his face before fear swallowed it whole. He didn’t ask who we were, because we already knew. He stumbled back, pale, and shaking, and for a second,I almost felt for him. Almost. I raised the gun and aimed it between his eyes. “You know why we’re here,” I said calmly. “I want names.” Rowan appeared beside me in no time, grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the wall. “You alone?”

"You sounded like you were about to chew someone out." I take a slow sip of my coffee, letting the heat spread through me. It’s a brief moment of peace before the storm. I shrug, playing it down slightly, but knowing there’s no hiding anything from Luca. "Vee just called. Said I shouldn't go to the dinner." “Vikings Vee?” He asks and I nod. Luca raises an eyebrow, a clear invitation for me to elaborate. "Randall," I say, watching his reaction. "He wants to work with us. First time he’s ever dealt with a mafia group. And apparently, all the other bosses are furious he chose the Ash Mafia."

Even Randall felt like the situation was absurd. He did not think that he would be the one to kill that beast in the end! Everyone would look at him differently, and he would be able to use his Life Points to gain valuable treasures! However, even though the python died at his hands, he would not be getting anything! No one would look at him differently, and he would not get any Life Points! However, those thoughts merely surfaced in Randall's mind for a brief moment before they were tossed aside. His survival was the most important at that moment! After killing the three-headed silver python, he did not delay for a single moment as he fled toward the barrier, trying to pull away from Fane.

When he took in the nature of their foe, a chill passed over him. They were Moran’kaar. Randey struggled to push aside the dread that rose within him. Memories of his first encounter with one such creature still fueled his nightmares. They were as he remembered; a ghoulish, evil mockery of Minotaurs, with malformed features and loose flesh. They had to be sustained with Dark Magic. There was no other explanation, for they had the look of creatures long dead. Yet they moved with surprising speed. That was different, for the one Master Kolton and Sir Braedon had dispatched had not been so quick. Evidently that trait had been addressed by those behind their creation.

"Rashka... what have you done?" Rashka's head snapped up, his eyes wide with terror. "No! Randall, stop it!" he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. "You made me do it!" But Randall's cries grew louder, echoing through the large chamber. "Help! Someone help!" he bellowed, his voice laced with feigned panic. "Rashka has gone mad! He killed them and tried to kill me, too!" Panic surged through Rashka. He knew what Randall was doing, setting him up as the monster. His gaze darted around the room, searching for an escape, but the heavy oak doors were tightly shut.

"Throughout the years I had spent in Redwood, I have come to learn the ways of your people. Enough to know where to point the sword at and have the pack crumbling down in the blink of an eye. Most especially now that the white wolf is in our captivity. You shall fulfill your destiny and help us bring down the reign of the Alken's." I still have my eyes on Randall as I stare at him unbelievably. This cannot be true. This cannot be the same Randall who had earned my trust even when I was skeptical about him. This cannot be the same Randall whose weaknesses and vulnerability I had seen. The Randall in front of me now is an unrecognizable monster. "Why?" It is the only word I can utter as tears

I have to get out of here, I have to prepare for killing him. The cell opened, Randall entered again with his two warriors. He smirked looking at me making me to glare at him and mentally said to myself; when I get out of here, when I have a wolf, I will kill him too, as well as Gibbor and Helly, I will kill them all.

As if the only thing that mattered… was me. The room still smelled of gunpowder. Bodies lay scattered in broken angles, blood pooling under them like dark shadows. Damon stood between me and everything else—broad shoulders rising and falling with the aftershock of killing. Randall was the only one left alive. He stumbled back until his spine hit the wall, both hands raised in the air. But I saw it— the outline of a gun tucked inside his jacket. Damon saw it too. In a single step, he closed the distance, pressed the muzzle of his weapon against Randall’s forehead.