Queen Ghidorah Novels & Stories

Then Lily stepped to the broken window. And immediately wished she hadn't. Because the thing coming through the gate was huge. Not just huge. Impossible. Its head alone was larger than the lighthouse. Its body seemed made from darkness itself. Not flesh. Not bone. Living darkness. God. How were they supposed to fight that? Fair. They weren't. Reasonable honestly. Then the Guardian attacked again. The giant stone creature slammed into the tower. BOOM! The island shook. Cracks appeared along the tower walls.

They met in the ruined birthing chamber deep beneath the palace: a circular room of black stone, walls etched with fertility runes now cracked and bleeding. Morven hobbled in, sniffed the air, wrinkled her muzzle. “You smell of star-death, girl.” “I smell of necessity,” Elara replied. “Can you do it?” Morven set a leather satchel on the stone table. Opened it. Inside: vials of black blood, dried placentas, a silver speculum shaped like a wolf’s jaw. “Separate a god-beast from its vessel?” The old wolf cackled. “Possible. Once. Long ago. Cost the queen her life and the child its soul.”

I said and started to pace up and down again. “Levi, breathe. Talk to me, tell me something,” he said. “Something I don’t know.” “In 1986 Lake Nyos in Cameroon exploded,” I said and he started to laugh. “1700 people died from the degassing of the 1.6 million tons of carbon-dioxide that was released and the cloud that formed was a 160 feet high.” “Shit, that’s terrible,” he said. “What else?” “The largest living organism on the planet is a honey fungus in Oregon. It spreads across 2.4 miles in the Blue Mountains,” I said and sat down. “This isn’t helping.”

“That’s not my plants.” The thing that climbed up was bigger than the rest. Taller than me, broader, with bones that jutted like armor plates. Its jaw unhinged as it let out a screech that rattled my teeth. A ghoul king, maybe. Or just the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen that wasn’t my reflection after a fight. “Wonderful,” I muttered. “Because this day wasn’t long enough.” “Try not to die,” Gaia said, and there was the faintest amusement in her tone.

If it weren’t for the fact that I needed to get its talent, then I would have postponed our meeting to a much later time when I am confident enough to face it alone. There are numerous entrance and exits in the part of the cave that we are in. One of which emerges the demon that we were looking for. Gorshe is a demon dragon. Unlike the typical gigantic dragons that one would see in fantasy movies, Gorshe is small. He is about the size of an adult elephant, with pitch black scales that seem to ignite in black flames from time to time. Sharp razor claws create an ear wrenching friction along the moss covered rocks, as if they were doing it on purpose to announce their arrival. Even its twistin

"This is bad." "Who is Behemoth?" Hydra asked when she saw a bit of fear in the eyes of the Princes of hell. Before anyone of them could reply her, the ground beneath them open and Belphagor, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Leviathan and Raziah (Lucifer) where standing on a very large hand of a beast, it's claws were the longest and largest ever seen which made them look small. Only the hand of the beast was seen but the chuckle that came out from the unseen beast was petrified.

"Bring me her alive!" The woman submerged in the wine inside the tub, emerged again from between the sovereign's legs, trying to suck in a breath of air. "Help me imbeciles!" yelled Guildor at his acolytes rising from the tub. His voluminous body dripped huge amounts of water. He leaned with his right hand on his black staff made of ebony with a silver hilt in the shape of a knob. A medallion embedded with a black opal in the shape of a half moon hung from his neck. He had snatched both from his father long ago.

Others rush the injured to Cerberus’s gates, where the guardian beast protects the medical teams. Then it happens. The enemy unleashes their gods. We knew this was coming. We studied the line-up. Whiro, Māori god of the dead, appears first. His reptilian-human hybrid form is pure nightmare fuel. He devours souls—any souls—and grows stronger with every bite. Watching him swallow demons whole is disturbing. Then comes Ahriman, the Iranian god of strife, slithering forward on a serpent body, his face a chaos Picasso would worship. Four horns spiral from his skull, directing bedlam wherever they point.

From the black mire, things began to climb. Not wolves. Not beasts we knew. Things born in the crushing dark before the sun ever rose — colossal, scaled, circular jaws lined with rows of shark teeth, blind writhing tentacles sprouting from their ridged backs. They were the Spawn of the Black Tide — the hounds of the Forgotten Gods. Sensing my aura, they howled in unison — a scream of a thousand drowning voices — and my warhorses reared in terror. “FOR THE NEST! FOR THE EMPIRE!” I bellowed — and let the silver take me.

“We’re gonna teach this fucker a lesson.” I lowered the LED a few inches and spotted the disgusting thing crawling up the wall. I could try several paragraphs of description, and you will think I should’ve just said it looked like Gollum and save everybody time. So yeah, that’s what it looked like. “A crawler?” I said mockingly. “You fucking roach are the infamous Skippy?” The dark thing tried to sneak into the door to Quaker Hall basement, but I aimed my LED at the doorway, making it crawl back and up toward the ceiling.