Paris Catacombs Monster Novels & Stories

His hand lifted, hovered just inches from the handle. If he turned it , if he stepped inside there’d be no undoing it. Not this time. He could finish what they started. Bury himself so deep inside that mouth, inside that want, that for a few hours, he wouldn’t have to think about betrayal and bloodlines and wedding vows. He could forget. But the thing about monsters was they followed you, even after the lights went out. And Rafael already knew, no matter how hard he tried to kill this thing between them, it wouldn’t stay buried.

Just spritzed herself with cheap perfume on her way out the door. It was far too late to stress about body odor now as she eyed the passageway before her. Fuck, this place was massive. Stone tunnels and doors as far as she could see. Amber wondered how many miles beneath The Fringe these tunnels went. It wouldn’t surprise her if it ran the whole length of The Fringe, this network of underground passageways. Like the catacombs intertwined deep beneath the Paris streets. There were also probably bodies down here as well. Maybe encased in the concrete, like a mortar to help hold its walls together. Kept it from crumbling.

Joe and Nerissa follow in his wake, their curiosity urging them deeper into the catacombs, their waysticks casting a bright beam of light to guide their strokes. Luscious, Marine, and Trent form a group, their expressions a mix of curiosity and fascination. Trent, with an eager grin, peers through the translucent calcium, studying the eye sockets of a skull with a childlike wonder. Luscious clicks his tongue to get Trent's attention, reminding him to stay focused, and Trent obediently follows their group as they venture forth. Markous, Bryan, and Madissa opt for the path that leads behind the spiral tunnel. Their reasons vary, but their shared curiosity propels them forward, eager to uncover

I closed my eyes when a sudden quake happened and a loud unexplainable slit appeared in front of the room nearest to us. Of course that ruined the moment, but what I'm most afraid of is that monsters suddenly went out of the slit when the quake stopped. Ellie came eye to eye with the humanoid pig-like monster, well there is actually a proper name for it, an Orc. Suddenly my glasses vibrated, and a notification appeared on my inbox. [A new quest had arrived: Defeat the Upcoming Monster Mob]

I tighten my grip on David and ask, "Your proclamation—what's the big picture? Where do you see this going? I'm curious, Alpha Nicodra. Do you have any specific ideas regarding how exactly you're going to resurrect our culture?" He lifts his glass to me and says, "I'm happy to hear your interest. My ideas are truly rooted in our conformity to a way of life that was simply not built on the beings we are. Frankly, Brigette, we are not human. In all honesty, we're monsters—at least to them, at least in our physiology." "Monsters," I repeat, tasting the word on my tongue.

Then they heard the screams that made them leap, hurrying to the direction of the screams. He thought Vamoire is doing what he had expected, but he was wowed to see the monster. His eyes went searching for Maridelle. When he finally saw her afraid and threatened by the monster, Hodor ended its life in an instant. The monster’s body felt on the ground with a defeaning thud. “What had just happened?” Hodor asked. In sheer delight Vamoire approached him. “Its her blood’s doing. She feed that monsters and that happened.” She pointed the body. “ I cannot imagine what it could do further. I thinkn it is limitless.”

Lucien was gone from the master suite again, his scent already fading from the room. A sudden, blood-curdling shriek shattered the silence of the compound. "Intruder! In the lower vaults! Help!" Bryce’s voice tore through the concrete corridors, raw with terror. My feet hit the cold floor before my brain could process the danger. "What has that fool done now? Did the Blackwell scouts actually find the hidden tunnels?" The emergency lights were down, leaving the passages pitched in ink. Every ten paces, the air grew colder, thick with the scent of ozone and dried blood. I rounded the corner near the old holding cells, my ears twitching at a faint rustle behind me.

Only to pause at the flavour he had tasted after he licked that spoiled young master blood that was so squished already now and was now lying at his feet with its eyes close and was close on having to enter the door of his death. The monster was slightly confuse and not so sure, so he attentively pick the spoiled young master already dead body, he slightly sniff with that big nose like the shape of an elephant horn the under the eyes of the puzzled and horrified eyes of the crowd who was looking at the ruckus this unwelcomed monster had caused, he took a bite to this young master flesh, earning quite a lot of screams and shriek once again. But the monster paid no heed to this scream, but his

So hot that sweat immediately soaked through Tamara's shirt. "This way," Marie said, leading them deeper. The whispers started immediately. Voices in languages Tamara didn't know. Some sounded French. Some sounded older. Some didn't sound human at all. Smith was suffering. Every step made him flinch. The parasites were going crazy under his skin, writhing like snakes. "Stop," Marie said suddenly. They were in front of a large tomb. White stone, stained with age. The name was worn away, unreadable. "This is it?" Tamara asked.

This was not just a home. It was a vault of power. A graveyard of empires. A place where monsters were not born—but made. And as the door shut behind us with a soft, final click, I knew one thing with terrifying certainty: Whatever we were about to ask… This place had heard it before.