Ruby Gloom House Novels & Stories

The safe house was a tomb. A small, anonymous apartment on the ground floor of a drab building in a nondescript suburb of Geneva. The air smelled of stale cigarettes and disinfectant. The furniture was sparse and functional, the curtains perpetually drawn, casting the room in a perpetual, gloomy twilight. It was the absolute antithesis of the light-filled villa overlooking the lake.

Katie giggled at the phrase, as she did almost every time. Glee saw them out, clicking on the light so they wouldn’t trip in the darkness. The air had turned damp, and the encroaching shadows chilly after the warmth of day. A gigantic black moth flitted around the burning porch light. “See you dark and early!” Glee called after them with a pleasant wave. They both waved back. Glee Deadmond glanced perplexed for a moment at the peculiar black moth before closing her front door and shutting the light off several seconds later.

He flashed us a cryptic smile. I gulped hard, eyeing the house. It looked truly haunted, occupying a significant space on the side of the dock. The windows and walls looked as though they had been forgotten through time. Giant bats and gargoyles manned the threshold and roof. “We can choose another booth,” Liam said when I kept eyeing the house. Shaking my head, I tugged him back when he was about to leave. “No,” I stated. “Let’s go. This is perfect.”

<★★★★ BLUE MOON PACK ★★★★> Damon stood in the dimly lit room, his eyes scanning the remnants of his brother’s life that had been left untouched since the day of his death. The air was heavy with the scent of old wood and dust, a somber reminder of the time that had passed. This room, once vibrant with the energy of his brother, was now a mausoleum, filled with memories too painful to revisit. Damon had avoided this place for so long, unable to face the reality of his brother's absence. But today, something had drawn him in, a need to connect with the person he had lost so tragically.

Caelum ignored their comments and followed them into the territory, holding his breath for as long as he could before drawing another, for the stench of rogues was thick in the air that it was almost impossible to distinguish other scents besides it. They came upon a shabby looking house which was two floors high with barely any windows, and when they stepped into the porch, the floorboards creaked at the weight of every step they took. It was so out of character for Noah that he prepared himself for any hostility once the door opened and he was lead inside. Noah would’ve chosen a more elaborate and lavish dwelling to show off his love for power, not an old building that looked like it could

This is my will so mote it be. As I finished reciting the poem, in the blink of an eye, the bedroom disappeared, and I found myself in a basement-like place. It looked old and unkept, there was water dripping from the ceiling and the floor was wet. There was a stifling stench that made me cover my nose. I looked around and realized it was a dungeon of some sort. I could tell it was soundproof because the walls were covered by a thick foamy substance. I walked closer to it to get a closer view and immediately felt lightheaded. It was some sort of gassy substance, that I guess was fatal to werewolves or something. Maybe it was a safe room.

“Sorry, we’re fresh out of miracles. You new in town?” “Yeah. I moved into the Varyn House.” His grin evaporated. “You’re living there?” “Temporarily,” I said. “Unless the roof kills me first.” He hesitated, then bagged my things and added a flashlight. “On the house,” he said. “For when the lights go out.” “Why does everyone keep saying that?” He didn’t answer. If ghosts could have favorite hangouts, Willow Creek’s library would be it. Old wood, creaky floors, the smell of dust and time.

Our room, a sanctuary of love and power within the Packhouse, was breached under the veil of morning's light. The air shifted, a cold, almost palpable darkness seeping into our room. I stirred, sensing the disturbance before it fully revealed itself. My instincts, honed through years of leadership and battle, screamed a warning. The faint, almost imperceptible sound of movement reached my ears. Ghouls. Creatures of the night, forsaken and lost, but deadly. Their presence here, in the heart of my territory, was a declaration of war.

Thank you all for reading my book. This is my second book on good novel and I hope you all enjoy it. 'Quagmire' is a romance novel which possesses a lot of twists, turns, complications but still enough romance to keep it interesting and thrilling. The book is an entire work of fiction and is not intended to make mockery or downgrade any kind of individual.

But perhaps even natural daylight would not be able to smooth the ugliness of what was inside the building. She and Andrei had been led on a shaky walkway above an enormous room like an industrial hangar. Below were rectangular boxes filled with some steaming reddish goo. On top of the goo grew a web of black filaments, like a mushroom farm. Indeed, there were fruiting bodies, lifting off the matrix as they grew: sooty, spiky stars. Eyeless people were moving between the rows of boxes, adding more reddish goo. They were taking it from the large pool in the corner where a sturdy pipe occasionally cleared its mechanical throat and ejected blobs of the stuff. The pipe was connected to a large m