Morgan Fate Novels & Stories

Morgott sneered, “They say I am a demon who kills people or supreme beings without blinking an eye. That I’m cruel and would commit heinous crimes.” He raised his voice and shouted, “But! I can say with confidence that no matter where I’ve gone, I’ve never killed a human.” Everyone lowered their heads and remained silent. James narrowed his eyes, seemingly coming to a realization. Morgott’s spirit was undeniably potent. He could possess or manipulate any living entity, and he was immortal. It would not be long before his seal was lifted, and he could take over their bodies to seek revenge.

A part of me regretted throwing the magazine in the trash can, because if for nothing at all, I could have found out how well he had moved on with his life so I could at least get the closure I needed to move on with mine. But it was all good. Maybe, God let it happen like that for a reason. “Cin?” I heard Sam call out softly, snapping me out of my reverie. “Yeah?” He was driving, so he just shot me a quick glance and turned his attention back to the road. “Uhh, you know…. So I've been thinking,”

His blood spilled on the stone floor ignited with a dark fire. "With my last blood, I swear!" he cried, his voice reverberating through Siron's dream, filled with unbearable anguish and rage. "The male descendants of this treacherous bloodline shall feel my shadow forever! They will know the pain of being betrayed by those who should protect! Until one of us finds peace in blood or surrender!" The ritual ended in a burst of dark energy. Morat died, but his spirit did not leave. He transformed into something else, a vengeful spirit bound to that lineage forever.

Cause of death, dismemberment and excessive blood loss. Keith's hands began to shake. He stared at that name for a very long time. Then he shook his head. "No." His voice was very soft. "That's impossible. She's not dead. She can't be dead." "Alpha!" Elliott tried to say something, but Keith wasn't listening. He turned and ran out of the conference room. He headed straight for the autopsy room. He yanked the white sheet away and stared at the unrecognizable face beneath it. He reached out before stopping halfway.

I walked outside and saw the SUV pull up in front of the packhouse. Morgana walked out. "Alexander," she said dramatically, "Alpha Edwin is dead." "What? How? Where is he?" We had an accident, she said, pointing to her head. There was a Band-Aid on her forehead. He didn’t make it. Morgana’s face remained oddly blank, her eyes downcast, lips tightly pressed together as if holding something back. She kept her posture straight and didn’t fidget, her voice calm and flat. It was hard to tell if she was in shock or simply untouched by grief. The way she avoided my gaze made a prickle of unease settle in my chest.

She mumbled to herself as she got up from her place with a sarcastic smile on her face and threw the letter on the table. "If there truly is another door that would open up for me, shall I consider this letter as that door?" She mumbled to herself and wiped the tears off her cheeks. "In these ten days, I have seen the worst days, the lowest point of my life. I lost my job and my father is on the brink of death," She shrug her shoulder as she looked down on the crumpled up letter she threw - "But if all this had the slightest hope to change then I will be stubborn enough to grab it." She gathered all her courage and decided to pay a visit to the person who was so glad as to invite her.

His eyes traveled lower down my eyes and his gaze seemed to soften when he realized I was crying. "I do." He said. "But you are supposed to live here." I looked at him unbelievably. Maybe he was a psychopath. Kidnappings girls just for his crazy reasons. Or because he loved calling this place as Underworld. "I'm not going to die here just because of you! However crazy you are, somebody will come here looking for me." I shouted. He raised a brow at that. "You are already dead. And secondly, mortals don't come out here unless they're dead. So no, nobody is coming here for you. And even if they do, they would already be dead." He spoke.

That the evil with manifest itself in spiritual entities. Owen thought she made be a few beers short of a six pack when she started spewing that mumbo jumbo crap. The motel isn't haunted or evil. The only evil thing in it had been Dave and Nate, but thanks to Lacey and Dave's old rifle, the two of them were no longer around to plague the place. “What kind of smell is it? Like a natural gas smell? A trash smell? Does it smell like mildew, like maybe a water leak soured the carpets?” Owen asks her, curious but she just shrugs.