Orc God Novels & Stories

Tears and sweat slowly trickle down her face as she slowly wallows in the desperate calls and wails of those unseen creatures lingering in her mind. "Morrigan..." A very familiar soothing voice called her. A voice that she knew would bring solace. Amidst the tall walls of flames, Morrigan tried to find the source of the voice but beyond the flames are nothing but endless darkness. Morrigan slowly pulls herself together and tried to stand from the ground in an attempt to continue to look for the owner of the voice. She wanted to call out for her mother who continues to call her, ask where she was and her father, and sister. But still, she couldn't find the voice that seemed to escape her. "Mo

Idris my gorgeous god like specimen. I let my body soak up the oils again, rubbing them all over myself reaching in deeply. Sad as I know I am washing off his man scent. All my thoughts now are on Idris. Our latenight meeting. The kiss, I can’t get my mind off it, the sensations it brought. Him being a Phoenix. Lord of all creation. My only thought, or care now. My heart beats hard and loud, just thinking of him or picturing his immaculate face.

ZIONs POV… While I take cover under a large tree, I press my back flush against the tree trunk with a vicious snarl escaping past my cold, trembling lips. As I exited the cave searching for some fire branches, a high-tech drone with heat sensory and a wide range of distance sensory was heading in my direction. I had to use my whip blade to cover my footprints through the thick snow, hoping they wouldn't be able to track me. The people of ODRION are different. They worship a God that doesn't exist, making their beliefs and rituals erratic and fatal without a real purpose.

What’s more frightening than an orc with huge biceps? Intelligence. This specific orc can talk and understand human language. When it starts to grin, my skin starts to crawl. “So, pretty one, have you come here to offer yourself to me?”

“Your aura is disrupting my spell, Ilorde!” “What? Fuck!” Ilorde knew what was transpiring between her and Maleficent. Since they were from two different worlds with different types of magic and medium, the moment the demonic arts made contact with her nature-driven nature – it immediately clashed instead of acting as an amplifier. By the natural order of the worlds, the demonic arts of the Nether World had no compatible magic outside the worlds aside from the necromancer’s magic. With this in mind, Ilorde made haste. She closed her eyes as she refocused her nature magic to her hands and feet instead of her back. This action of hers left her entire body open for damage, but it was the only t

she sneers from her position on her knees in the grass when Osric comes over and stands in front of her. "She's the Goddess of Death, a goddess to all. You and the witches made a huge mistake betraying your Gods and siding with Dagon. Draig, deal with this woman as you see fit, you deserve justice and revenge for your mate," Osric kneels in front of her making her eyes open wider. "You’re not just a lycan, you’re something more. What are you?" She whimpers and shakes her head as her entire body trembles. Everyone including me stares at Osric in shock as he shakes his head then growls.

" A cold dread seeped into my bones, a confirmation of my worst fears. They weren't just a rogue pack; they were a cancer, a perversion of what we were. "Your mate, Olivia," the Oracle's gaze settled on her, profound and unwavering, "is the true vessel. Her connection to all five elements; Earth, Water, Air, Fire, and the spirit that binds them is unparalleled. She is the only one who can counter the consuming darkness. Her very essence is the purest elemental light, a force that repels corruption. The scar upon her arm is both a wound and a mark of her unique resilience; it signifies that she was touched by their blight and survived, strengthening her core against it."

"Oh God!" My head is really spinning. The oracle can not just call her for nothing, more especially when she's a human with no significance to the pack. She must be something more. There are things lying beneath that she's hiding. I know it. Maybe she's a warlock or something. I'm not sure she's a werewolf because her scent spoke differently. She's just a mysterious character that leaves my head full of thoughts.

Neon purple light draws the patter as their eyes pins in a surprise backing out unto her side protecting her unto their stance as the ‘demon’ they are fighting against is the very image of the serpentine God. “Ophiuchus.” Calling God’s name as it hisses in response. Its silver scale and neon purple night eyes mark the celestial birth for both of them. Puzzled as their mind might be in a shallow trance of a shape-shifting demon who takes the image of the known God. The three took a defensive stance protecting her near as her heartbeats an unknowing pain. To the God that should be in the celestial realm and of an eminent authority where chants and proper ritual are required for days to be hear

“So will it be with the resurrection of the dead? The body that is sown is perishable; it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor; it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness; it is raised in power, and it is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body.” The Creator’s large form wavers back and forth before mine. Unlike angels, The Creator has no true shape or gender. The Creator is light and darkness. The Creator just is. Some call him father and some mother. But there’s no acknowledgment of which is correct. The other archangel stands stall, his muscled body and sword arm stiff as he readies to attack. I try to see