Riddick Hellhounds Novels & Stories

“Give me her whereabout and you're free to go. Alive.” “As you can see, blocker.” Rio grinned and stretched out his arms, sneering. “I only brought the ax, the clothes and the robe I wore. Besides, how could you expect me to know what you're talking to me about?” “Wolvire,” his enemy spoke a name angrily. “You know very well what it is, damn human! Give it me the information or you will die!” “I don't want to die.” Rio grinned again, his expression pale and strange under the blue moonlight. “I must add I'm sorry. I don't have anything information you talk about. Just go to hell!”

What surprised me the most was that he got his Billionaire title at 21. Clyde has always been smart. I always knew he was meant to be successful one day, but I never thought it would go up to this type of scale. He has a security and tech company that the government and many people go to unfold everything related to tracking, hacking, and the dark web. According to many articles online, he's part of a circle named The Bloodhounds. Some reports mentioned that he has some ties to the mafia, which I hope he doesn't have because I imagine how dangerous it would be for him to be related to criminals.

His body weight crushed her into the altar, his cock—glistening with her blood and cum—slapping against her inner thigh, hot and insistent. Malachor's head dipped low, fangs bared in a wicked grin. Without mercy, he sank them into her collarbone, the sharp points tearing through skin and muscle in a fierce bite. Blood burst forth, hot and coppery, dripping down her chest in rivulets that soaked her breasts. Elizabeth's scream tore louder, her body bucking wildly against his iron grip, wrists twisting futilely in his claws. The pain exploded like fire, radiating out to mix with the ache in her pussy, her clit pulsing desperately for friction.

It made Ardina's hairs tingle instantly and her body suddenly trembled. "Wh-at a sou-nd is th-at?" Ardina asked to stutter, scared to death when she heard Orthus' barking sound which was very loud and scary in Ardina's ears. "It's Orthus, the hellhound, the spirit guard dog who often escapes from hell. And he's ready to tear the spirit body into pieces. And the dog is also Asmodeus's pet," he explained. Ardina hugged herself as tightly as possible. His body shivered more and more every time the hellhound barked.

“Yeah, they want us to kill Hellhounds as their pack members. They will provide us with everything we need, but they will choose the targets." "Fuck!" ***

He claims to have hellhounds and there's no reason not to believe him, but still. Hellhounds kill with single-minded purpose and in turn they are nearly impossible to kill. They have no problem breaking off parts of their bodies to slip through things like fences, gates, and prison cells. The Federation had no success at taking much less keeping one alive and whenever they tried, humans died.

I commanded with a cold smirk on my face. Venus was inside her cell immediately. We had already tested out these specific cells and knew that her abilities would work in there. I had no idea if it was because of her species or because she was bound to me. Either way, it was a great tidbit of information to hold in the palms of our hands. Our Hellhounds were the aces up our sleeves. “Hellhounds are marvelous creatures,” I murmured appreciatively. “Their psychic abilities exceed those of many species. You’ll give us the information willingly, or my gorgeous Hellhound here will do that for me. Your choice.”

Using my sword skills, I tear through their bodies, slicing their heads and limbs, but they keep coming. My body bows as claws dig into my back. Falling forward, I manage to rip away from the claw and slice at the hound, but another grips my arm. I kick out as my sword clatters onto the floor and rip another hound’s arm. Its grey body shudders, and its wolflike snout curls. Outside of their human forms, hellhounds are not pretty creatures. They are gray, with large, stout, pitbull bodies, very little hair, and heads are round with tiny cauliflower ears, beady dark eyes, and puglike snouts.

I freeze, hardly daring to breathe, as the great head rubs against me like it belongs there. “Oh,” I whisper. Slowly and carefully, I spin. Then I lift my gaze. Riddick stands before me. He is enormous. Bigger than any werewolf I’ve ever seen. Bigger than some of the shifted Alphas I remember from Vale. His shoulders are broad and powerful, his frame all muscle and grace. His fur is so black it borders on blue, shimmering indigo where the sunlight catches it, like the night sky given form. He watches me with eyes that are startlingly familiar.

“In the real world, you are currently standing on the roof of the Sector 7 Precinct Headquarters. The physical drones are docked directly below you. Be careful, Ren. The Blackwatch network is highly active here.” Ren crested the ridge and dropped to his stomach. He unslung the Archangel sniper rifle and deployed the bipod, settling the crosshairs over the plateau. Below them, pacing restlessly among the metallic rocks, was a pack of five Steel Hounds. They were terrifying digital constructs—massive, wolf-like beasts made entirely of polished chrome and jagged steel plating. Their eyes glowed with an aggressive, neon-red light. "Standard pack," Ren muttered, scanning the targets. "Four betas.