Resident Evil 8 Fanfiction Novels & Stories

Elyra sat near one of the long wooden benches wrapped in Zevarion’s coat while trying not to think about the fact that his hand had stayed on her waist longer than necessary earlier. Trying and failing. “Power might return later,” Damien said while placing an old lantern onto the table nearby. Victor glanced around the dark hall. “This place somehow became worse at night.” “It always looked cursed,” Elyra muttered quietly. A faint sound beside her. Almost a laugh. She immediately looked toward Zevarion. His expression remained composed, but she definitely caught the tiny amusement in his eyes. “You’re enjoying this too much,” she whispered softly. “You being scared?” “I am not scared.”

she grins, pointing. “What was that about?” “Newly rebirthed vampires need blood or their senses go into overdrive and they can go on killing sprees. He found an open door and assumed the worst.” “I could have gone... feral?” “Pretty much.” “Thanks Lise.” “Don’t mention it” I pull back the covers on the opposite side of the bed. The sheets feel nice and cool against my skin. I settle in, but then my eyes snap open. “Why was the door open?”

After all, her Dad was down there. Caitlin dove down sharply, between the rows of olive trees, heading for Aiden’s villa. As she got closer, she spotted hundreds of corpses spread out, lying lifeless on the hills below. Vampires. Rexius’ men. Slaughtered. But as she dove closer, she could also see something else: corpses with white hoods and robes. Aiden’s people. Before she even landed, Caitlin already sensed that the worst possible outcome had occurred: Aiden’s coven had been wiped out.

She dug the novel out from beneath a stack of correspondence she'd been using to bury it, dust gathering faintly along its spine, and sat with it open in her lap for the first time in nearly two weeks. *The Villainess's Ruin.* She'd read it once, in her old life, curled up with tea gone cold beside her, treating it as nothing more than pleasant escapism before bed. She read it now with an entirely different kind of attention, searching each page for anything she might have skimmed past the first time, anything that might connect, however loosely, to a name like Renshaw.

Valerio blinked once, clearly surprised by how genuinely terrified I looked. “I won’t touch you,” he said again softly. I gave him the most suspicious stare possible. Right. And my brain also apparently liked making incest-adjacent nightmares for entertainment. Wonderful. "Deep breath Ciara..." he urged My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I clutched the robe tighter around me like it could somehow shield me from the nightmare still replaying in my head. Valerio touching me. Valerio inside me. Dax watching with that shattered look on his face. God, why wouldn’t my brain shut up?

It pressed my face into that scene until I woke with my fists in the sheets and my mouth full of her name. Eva sat up beside me. “You said the Omega again.” Her voice was flat. “Third night. If you are going to moan for a dead girl, do it in another bed.” “She is not—” I stopped. I did not know what she was. Dead was the story I sold. The scout rumors said otherwise. Iron Peak. A black haired woman pulled out of the same forest. I had beaten boys for less than what my own dreams were doing. Eva’s charm glowed against the blanket. The warm pull tried to rise and sputtered. For a moment I saw her without the Goddess paint. A frightened daughter of a rich house, clutching a bracelet that worked

Lucas shouted. Eva stared through the screen. Elena whispered: “I remember.” Eva stopped breathing. “Mom?” “You broke my necklace when you were six.” Eva laughed through tears. “You blamed Lucas.” Lucas looked offended. “I wasn't even there!” Eva laughed harder. Elena began crying. “My baby.” For one precious second, the apocalypse disappeared. Eva was simply her daughter. Then another memory struck. Eva strapped into a Genesis machine. Screaming. Elena standing outside.

“God, Jasmine, you were wild. White-hot. My sweet, desperate girl.” “Don’t,” I whispered, eyes fluttering shut for half a second, just long enough to see it. He chuckled. “Don’t remember?” He tilted his head. “I’m sure your ex-husband didn’t do half of what I did to you.” He moved one of his fingers to my lips, pressing against them, staring at me with those compelling gray eyes of his, and my mouth opened on its own accord, letting his index finger inside and against my teeth. He had an animalistic look, and my feet felt like jelly. Memories of all the wild sex we had flooded my brain, and I began to crave more of his touch.

'From murderer to stalker, isn't it an inverted process? ' Shouldn't be stalking first before killing? ' _______ KircheLeaf Arc 2: My Wife Is A Closet Yandere _______ ~ END of CHAPTER TWENTY- EIGHT ~

It’s the vampire from my dream many, many nights ago. “Let me go!” I scream in my sleep, and that’s when I wake up. I sit up on the bed, breathing hard. I clutch my chest and feel my heart almost struggling to burst out of my chest. I look at my kids and find that they’re still there. I’m about to try to sleep again when suddenly, as clear as day, I hear Ares’s voice in my head, like he’s mind-linking me even from seemingly a universe away. “I need you to find me, Valeria, because they’re going to kill me….”