Necromancer Novels Novels & Stories

"They have, ever since she was born." Cassandra set the little serpent among the piles of gold coins. The creature sagged in defeat and exhaustion after lying before that terrible fire. "There it is," Vasilisa's voice came from behind a mountain of walnut-sized raw rubies. It wasn't hard to find the book. It was placed on a golden stand in between two golden Sirin statues. The grimoire turned out to be the largest book Cassandra had ever seen, with pages made of parchment illuminated with tracery, and it was open to a page thickly covered with elegant, intricate writing.

Necromancer? "She can raise zombies, talk to ghosts and other dead, and she can heal the undead. Useful to have around. She's our primary conduit to Jeremiah." "Which one's he?"

He refused to believe in supernatural beings before despite the strange things that happened to him and his constant nightmares, but now that he was here right before one, there was no way to deny that fact. The side of her lips lifted a bit. “What do you think?” He didn’t say anything. From all the mythical books he had read, only dark creatures had red eyes, and the most famous were… vampires. What was more peculiar was he had dreamt about them before. In his dreams, everything felt real. It was like something about them kept on haunting him. “A demon or a vampire?” He didn’t want to know but he needed to. “Both.” His jaw clenched. He wanted to believe that this couldn’t be real, but altho

Their mouths gaped, sewn shut with thread that glowed faintly, trapping centuries of screams. They had once been warriors. Wolves. Mages. Leaders. Banished, betrayed, erased. Now, they belonged to me. A figure emerged from the skeletal trees. He was tall, draped in rotting velvet that reeked of earth and decay. His face was hidden by a jagged mask fashioned from bone. The Necromancer. “You summoned me,” he rasped, his voice grating like stone on stone. “You know the price.” I rose to my feet, my shadow stretching across the poisoned earth in ways no living thing’s should. “I’ve already paid.”

💉Tiara p.o.v 💉 It's time for the first prey to be sacrificed. I took off my bracelet and turn to half a bat and half of my vampiress's face, and disappeared into the thin air. I got to his house and decided to play some tricks on him, I started changing the light in his sitting room to different colours. I can see how scary he was, I used my necromancy power to break his plates and anything breakable in his kitchen at least he will die today, even when I finish draining his blood I will still demolish his apartment so as not to leave any traces for investigation.

Maybe it would pass for a bite if the guard didn’t look closely. In a way, she was glad that she hadn’t succeeded in biting me. Turning was a last resort and something she dreaded. She’d put it off as long as possible. There were times when she wished for death, but the knowing of what would happen to her body once she died traumatized her to the point of denying death as well. She was tortured daily. She wished for a way to die peacefully and to have her body placed in the ground while her loved ones said their good-byes. It would be much better to die than to become the undead; especially one of Wadim’s undead. They were an outcast with their own kind; a cross between vampire and cannibal.

The moment my fingertips touched the carving— The world disappeared. Blood. So much blood. White wolves knelt in enormous stone circles. Hundreds of them. Priestesses. Each wore flowing crimson robes instead of white. A woman stood before them. Her hair was completely white. Except for crimson streaks running through it like fire. Her eyes... They were mine. She smiled sadly. "The last daughter has come." I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. She walked toward me. "You have waited long enough." "Who are you?"

Claude found a few books on witchcraft that she had never seen before, and Nuella showed her a few books on magic that she had acquired over the years. As they were about to leave the room, Claude noticed a small book sitting on a shelf all by itself. It was old and worn, with a black cover that had been embossed with a strange symbol. "What's this?" Claude asked, picking up the book. Nuella's eyes widened as she saw the symbol. "That's the Necronomicon," she said, her voice low. "You shouldn't touch that." Claude looked at the book and felt a shiver run down her spine. She had heard of the Necronomicon before, and she knew that it was said to contain dark and dangerous magic.

Why would Maggie’s ancestors want to conjure and evil spirit or raise the dead? Fascinated by the pull of the words on the page, she softly whispered the Bring Forth the Dead Incantation. A cold chill swept over her and her temples throbbed. She carefully placed the ribbon down the interior binding of the pages and closed the book shut. The crystal didn’t look quite so out of place as it lay against the bottom of the pages. In fact, there was so much room between the size of the cover and the size of the pages that crystal tucked right up into the gap when she set the book on end. It was a perfect fit.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck. The fork wedged itself halfway between the bars and kept Mr. Who hanging impaled. It was a macabre sight that burned into my soul in all its cruel details. I didn't really care that this Proles was dead. It was Nick's behavior that worried me. Sure, this world was completely broken and people had always done strange things, but this one right now ... I just didn't know how to classify it. "Thanks for coming," Nick said quietly.