My Inner Demons Ships Novels & Stories

"Miss Vivian... Chief Julian is right to be careful. The Inner Dome isn't like the lowlands. Out here, you can fight a wave or a vanguard squad with a rifle and a high-pressure pump. Inside the high dome, the walls are solid titanium, and the weapons are corporate blockades, asset liquidations, and biological isolation protocols." ​Leo set the tray down and looked at the glowing white blip on the radar screen. The Vindicator, the Inner Council’s massive dreadnought, was slowly retreating toward the horizon, completely deterred by the artificial blue fog enveloping Sector 4. "They’re leaving because they can't see us. But the moment anyone tries to cross the threshold into the Inner Dome with

Still, he wouldn’t back down. “I can’t!” Maya gasped. Her teeth chattered from the cold that seemed to come from inside her bones. “If I let go, the ship crashes and kills everyone. If I hold on, the… the things inside the ship… get out!” Overhead, the sky was a mess—no blue left, just swirling silver and black. Winged shapes poured out of the crack in the ship, the Prisoners of the Dark. They looked like a swarm of angry bees, all smoke and hard edges, no faces. They dove straight for the Council’s silver guardians. The sound was awful, like a thousand mirrors shattering.

’ Mammon answers, looking rather guilty by the way he is fidgeting. ‘It shouldn’t have been real. This…’ I turn back to look down at the giant, legendary demon. It’s thorned black tentacles continue to wrap around the ship, like it is trying to hide inside of it. ‘...that can’t be real.’ I add it when I see it wearing a couple of crab pincers.

(RHYS' POINT OF VIEW) There was only a year until he was finally released, but I could not bear the ache and loneliness that had suddenly taken over my heart in his absence. Emotions. This was why demons were forbidden to love. We have an overabundance of emotions and feel them too strongly.

My fingertips were pregnant with a dark feeling longing for my own murder, waiting to give birth. Edim Demiray left me alone with that monster that woke up in my soul. Wiping my tears with the palms of my hands, I tried to shake myself out of my slumped state of debris, reaching the locked door and banging until my tear-drenched palms ached, "Edim!" I shouted, the beast inside me opening its eyes wide. The breaths I took were like fire burning my lungs, my breath was not coming down from my chest. "Edim, I'll never break your word again. Give me my pills, please!"

He was thinking of visiting other worlds first. Trevor: DIANA, how does she feel? DIANA: Like a junk compared to The ITALICA, Captain. Trevor: Well that she is, DIANA. Tell me something I don't know. DIANA: She handles just fine. I see no errors; we still have 4 boats in the dock, 1 master's room, 16 officers' room. 3 guests' rooms and 20 bunk type rooms. We have a hidden hold which can carry 20000 Tons or 10% of our total. We do not have drones or any defenses at all. This girl is made for running.

The Black Sea didn’t just part. It surrendered. From the churning, obsidian depths of this subterranean cavern the Phantom Armada clawed its way up, like it was reluctant but committed… yep, like that. They were—breathtaking , terrifying vessels. Woven whole from translucent, pale-grey phantom-wood, the dreadnoughts slid without a sound over the waves, leaving no reflections behind, and messing with none of the water. They were ghost ships, tethered to the physical world by this hollow, aching void in my chest. A void where the memory of my mother’s voice used to live, before it went quiet, forever.

She tried to summon her strength, but it felt like reaching for smoke. And with that, everything shattered. The ship, the fog, and the looming specter dissolved, pulling the crew into the merciless depths of Mnemosyne's power. A new reality awaited them, one constructed from the fabric of their own fears—memories poised to be rewritten under the watchful gaze of the master of memory.

​The Respiration didn't land so much as it anchored itself into the sea, its massive, barnacled hull groaning as it settled against the basalt pedestal of the spire. It was a Frankenstein of a ship—sections of sleek Sterling "White-Steel" welded to rusted industrial scavenge and draped in a hardy, vacuum-resistant strain of Whisper-Moss that glowed with a sickly, pale violet light.

It wasn't a broadcast from me; it was an intrusion. I stood up, my gaze fixed on the horizon where the black ocean met the gray ash of the sky. Dante stood beside me, his hand resting on his pistol, his eyes narrowing. A massive, unflagged obsidian ship appeared on the horizon. It didn't emerge from the clouds; it seemed to tear its way through the very fabric of the atmosphere. It was ten times the size of the messenger ship, a floating fortress of dark metal and silent power. "They're back," Dante hissed, his knuckles white. "Get inside, Ivy. Now."