Ominous Black Stake Novels & Stories

Its design mimicked thorned vines, elegant yet malevolent. “What is this?” I whispered, horror spreading across my face as I stared into the mirror. Xareth's reflection appeared behind me, calm, composed. His breath grazed my ear as he leaned in, his smirk spreading like rot. “It's called the Chain of Thorns. Or the Thorned Binding, if you prefer something more poetic.” His voice was soft. “It looks beautiful, doesn’t it? But the real artistry lies in what you can’t see. Every thorn, invisible to the eye, digs deeper the more you resist... or feel.”

Each of them formidable alphas from packs with unique abilities and legacies. Caius Knight Black of the Nightshade Pack was a tall man with long, sleek black hair that framed his chiseled face. His eyes were a piercing silver, sharp and calculating, often concealed under the shadow of his brow. The Nightshade Pack was known for their mastery over shadows and stealth, and Caius embodied that secrecy and quiet danger. His wolf, as dark as night itself, was a shadow among shadows, capable of blending into the darkness without a trace.

Far above, the sky was already beginning to dim at the edges, like a lid lowering over an eye that didn’t sleep. On the threshold, Kaelira paused and spoke not to Zevran or Taren but to the world itself. “When the Black Moon rises,” she said, “let it watch.” And then, without looking back, she added the only promise that felt like truth: “We’re coming for you.” The arch shivered. The Court’s gates loomed. Somewhere ahead, a war-scar smiled. The bond thrummed once—thin, fierce, alive. And the three of them walked into winter.

Flames shot up the sides fast. Screams filled the air. Sirens tried but the city stayed dark except for that weird red sky. Marcus pulled me behind an overturned car. “The main crew is here.” Shadows moved at the end of the block. Dozens. Tall figures in black. Eyes glowing. Claws and old weapons out. One stepped up front. His voice carried like he was right next to us. “Noah Vale. Marcus Blackwood. You broke the blood decree. Vale Enterprises ends tonight. You die with it.”

I choked back a scream as he violently drove me down to my knees. "You fight for the girl," the stranger whispered, leaning over my shoulder, his breath smelling of ozone and dead leaves. "You fight for territory. How incredibly small." With his free hand, he reached into the tactical vest at his chest. The moonlight caught the wicked, metallic gleam of a long, heavy object. It wasn't a dagger. It was a massive, solid silver stake, its surface etched with intricate, glowing runes that hummed with a low, menacing frequency.

I stayed jaws dropped where the black one keeps approaching on it. " Now, we can be together. You can now act like me, think like me, and best like me!" A deep horrible voice echoes in Starks's ears until everything looks dark. As the black smoke subsided from the atmosphere, Stark gape to the sky and set a louder scream. As his head back leveling the ground, his eyes were not silver anymore, it's all res without pupil like a demon on the underworld. A strange grin was drawn on his face as he swiftly ran back to the edge of the forest going to the city.

I commented. "M-zero, huh? Unfortunately, I am. I am stuck here because I don't have a mystic, it sucks. Then there you are, pretending to be an M-zero. Do you know how low M-zeroes are being treated? They are isolated. Null Town, huh? I assume you noticed how poor that place is? M-zeroes are treated like garbage, unnecessary in this world, so I couldn't avoid feeling cursed just by existing. You may not understand what I am feeling but the longer you stay here, the more you'd wish to disappear. Right, Domicci?" asked Josephine to Tori.

Once there, the session could take on a life of its own, Ponds warned. But all Michelle had done while under was mutter things about falling, endlessly falling. Gibberish about having a twisted spine, and her flesh and bones melting; a body ravaged by fire, leathery, with black fibers running riot throughout it. She had actually used those words: BLACK . . . FIBERS . . . RUNNING . . . RIOT, speaking in a flat, monotone voice that was more than a bit spooky. Something TATTERED and ANCIENT, which felt CORRUPTED and DISEASE RIDDEN to her.

She would have Callisto at her side, and Azrael too. But of the fallen, I had given up a while ago. "No!" I thought, "Asmodeus NEEDS to be on my side." ⋅ ♱ ⋅ The black sun made the sky of hell darker and darker, it was a true work of art, and not even the 7 chapters devoted to its description was enough to define how truly stunning it was. The crimson sky, the dark and cold sun, the gray clouds, and in the background, well hidden among the black mountains, there were small glows.