Pit X Dark Pit Novels & Stories

He's such a fan of him. Switching sides, aren't you? I just want to help you with your confusion. "Fine," I finally agreed even though it sounded like a dismissal. "Let's dance and get over with it." A crook smile plastered on Demitri's face. However, even with the smile, his face looked hard as ever like some sort of granite in its finest. And those eyes of his. Two pools of darkness waiting for someone to be drowned into it. He's like a walking tragedy, a storm that could destroy anything if he wants.

My warriors checked their armour and said quiet words to one another through the mind-link. They trusted me to lead them through what was coming. I wasn’t sure I deserved that trust. Behind us, my shadow warriors stood, fading into the terrain and becoming one with the dusk. The ancient shadow warriors stood apart, like sentinels carved from darkness itself. Dark energy from centuries of being dead radiated off them. I had awakened them knowing the cost. Old power never came without consequence. As the hours passed, clouds gathered quickly, folding over one another until there was total darkness across the land. The wind sliced through our armour and fur.

GIDEON’S POV The pit was cold and dark—so dark that I couldn’t make out a single thing, even with my heightened vision. It felt like I’d been down here for days, but I knew it couldn’t have been more than hours. I tried navigating through the darkness, only to step on something hard. I reached down to it—a skeleton, or at least I thought it was. I tried finding a wall but after minutes of walking and finding nothing, I gave up.

Lira (POV) The tunnel beyond the Maw tightens immediately, the walls curving inward like a throat trying to swallow us down. The stones sweat blood. The floor oozes black slime with every step. The breath of the Pit follows us — wet, rattling, insistent — as if it doesn’t intend to let us go until we bleed out what little strength we have left. And in the half-light ahead, something shifts. The Pit isn’t done. Not yet.

The Pitts, with their unique ability to assume the forms of vampires, werewolves, and even different humans, made it nearly impossible for the authorities to discern the true nature of the attacks. One fateful night, the harmony of the town was shattered when one of the Pitts brothers, driven by an insatiable desire, shape-shifted into the Alpha of the Shaw werewolf pack. The unsuspecting werewolf, the alpha's mate entangled in a web of deceit, succumbed to the charms of the impostor. Unbeknownst to her, she became pregnant with his child, a forbidden union that ignited the flames of an inevitable conflict.

The heavy main door of Caden's mansion clicked shut behind me. The sound didn't offer freedom; it sealed me into a new kind of prison. The bright afternoon sun felt too harsh, mocking the darkness that had just settled deep inside me. I was outside, yes, but no longer my own. The air felt thick, heavy with the weight of the deal. My limbs felt weak, like every bone had turned to water. I had agreed. I had sold myself, not just for money now, but for Caden’s sinister game.

Erin pulled him up and undressed him before he himself did, and together they both washed each other clean, got dressed, and left their small bedroom into the spacious building. ************ The Pits is known for its pleasure slaves. There were sixteen young adult men, owned by different masters, and they were all pleasure slaves to the many men their masters gave to them. Erin and Damon were owned by one master and so were the others. They have all morning to sleep, and all night to serve. Having just one rule that they must never let any man fuck them, they must do everything possible to make sure that the men are satisfied and reach a very intense orgasm.

Before I can even spin around and curse whoever had the audacity—the carriage wheels screech and spit dust, coughing it into my face as it trundles away. I blink the grit from my eyes, blow a limp strand of hair off my forehead, and turn back around to face the dreary underbelly of Vargrheim—the mines. Gray. Lifeless. Claustrophobic. A sunless wound in the earth where dreams came to die choking on dust. The gates yawn open before me like a mouth of a beast ready to devour. Rusty hinges. Old blood. Rock dust. A heavy iron sign dangles over the entrance, barely clinging to its bolts. Someone had scratched out the original name, and now it just reads: THE PIT. How poetic.

‎I spent every one of them tasting copper and picturing Nora’s bruises. ‎The Pit was an abandoned meat-processing plant on the edge of the industrial district: concrete, rusted hooks still hanging from the ceiling, drains in the floor for easy cleanup. ‎Diaz and Carl were already waiting. ‎Chained to steel chairs bolted to the floor. ‎Naked. ‎Bleeding. ‎But alive. ‎Dmitri had started without me. ‎Carl’s face was unrecognizable: both eyes swollen shut, lips split, teeth missing. ‎Diaz still had one good eye; it rolled toward me in terror when I walked in.

"The walls down in the Forgotten Pit are three feet of solid granite. No one is going to hear your curses down there except the rats." Lucien yanked the chain again, hauling my limp, bruised body across the threshold of the subterranean stairwell. The icy light of the mountain summit vanished, replaced by the damp, suffocating darkness of the deep stone stairs. "I will kill you all!" I whimpered, my shrieks dissolving into desperate, coughing fits as the heavy oak doors slammed shut above us, plunging me into the black abyss. "I will rip your souls out... I will burn your world... I will burn it all..."