Ruins Novels & Stories

I threw the stack of cash on his table and that act caused the dealer to look up, his leg crossed on the table in front of him. “Look who we have here,” he said, a smirk forming on his face. I wished to fucking wipe it off his face. “The mighty Zayn Santiago. To what do I owe this pleasant visit?” He asked, trying to pretend he didn't fucking know why I was here and it infuriated the hell out of me. “I want the crystals,” I said plainly, getting straight to the point, not wanting to spend a second more than needed in this goddamn place. “Oh right,” he laughed. Pulling open one of the drawers attached to the table. “We got some new stuff. You'd definitely like this one,” He threw a sealed bag

Lucas asked, looking at Lora. The Mountain Range of the Fallen Rocks was really far from where they were, and Lucas was not planning on heading there any time soon. Even the sound of the mountain was amusing to him. Its name suggested it had a range of mountains, but it was actually one enormous, ancient building complex. He wondered if there were any ancient zombies there. “There are zombies in the City of Ruins, sir,” Lora replied promptly. Previously, Lora had talked about the Mountain Range of the Fallen Rocks because the area was vast, and there were no powerful Dark Race or zombies there.

“We’re close. The key can feel it.” When they reached the ruins, the sight was both awe-inspiring and unnerving. Crumbling stone arches and half-collapsed towers jutted out of the rocky landscape, their surfaces etched with faded carvings. The ground was littered with debris, and the faint sound of wind echoed through the empty corridors, carrying a whisper that made Emma’s skin crawl. “This is the place,” Crane said, consulting the map. “If Haverstone’s notes are accurate, the fracture is at the center of the labyrinth.”

My angel in human form. Onto him, I clung and cried for long minutes. Into the ground, I clawed as I crawled to the dead body of one of the intruders, stripping him of his shirt. Theresa fucking Mattia. “Why. . .why. . .why. . .why!” I had chanted—my lips moved against one another as I continued to mumble words that were incoherent even to my own self. I mumbled until Raul lifted me off the dead body of my Cyrus. “Take it with a strong heart, feisty. We lose some, we win some. It’s the game.”

He stood for a while with his eyes closed, coming to his senses, and when normal vision returned, he looked around the clearing. A clearing on which grass does not grow, on which there are no bushes, and stone skeletons of walls bulging out of the bare earth. The ruins of buildings barely rose, the bricks lay in piles of rubble, in some places the outlines of foundations were visible. But for the most part, jagged teeth of masonry stuck out of the ground.

And oh God. He had the kind of face that made you look twice. Dark hair that fell carelessly across his forehead, like he'd run his hands through it too many times. A jaw sharp enough to cut glass, covered with stubble that suggested he'd either just rolled out of bed or didn't care about looking polished. But it was his eyes that held me, storm-gray and uncomfortably direct, like he could see straight through whatever mask I was wearing. A small scar cut through his left eyebrow. That detail felt important somehow. It kept him from being too perfect, too untouchable.

It was an overwhelming sensation, a wave of history washing over her, leaving her breathless and awestruck. As they delved deeper into the ruins, they discovered fragments of the past – shattered pottery, crumbling statues, half-buried scrolls – each a piece of a puzzle they were only beginning to understand. The pottery shards revealed intricate designs, hinting at an advanced level of artistry and craftsmanship. The statues, though weathered and broken, depicted figures of immense power, their expressions a blend of serenity and authority. The scrolls, painstakingly pieced together by Ronan, revealed fragments of the city’s history, its rise and its fall, it

It carried the smells of damp stone, wild grass, and over it all the sweet‑rot tang of rituals laid and relaid until the ground itself remembered. They’d brought her to a ruin. An old one. Stone half‑sunken into a low hill, walls broken in places, arches open to the bruised sky. Silver runes crawled across the remaining surfaces—some old, some newer and harsher, Tribunal strokes intersecting Lunaris curves in jarring ways. In the center of the ruin, where once there might have been a hall or a courtyard, a dais sat. It's not as massive as Moonfall. It's more like an altar.

Where my mother and Ivanov had stood just seconds ago, there was only a scorched, smoldering debris. Her body was completely gone, burnt to ash in the flash of the explosion. She had taken the monster with her. Ivan reached the gate, dropping to his knees, his hands clawing at the black floor as if he could somehow piece her back together. He sobbed, a violent, chest-heaving sound of a man whose entire universe had just been wiped off the earth. He wept into the dirt, completely broken. I stood there in the center of the ruined warehouse, staring blankly at the smoke clearing into the night sky. I almost couldn't believe it. My mother… was gone.

The ruins of the Vale smoked like a corpse still smoldering. Columns that once held banners of silver and crimson now jutted jagged and black against the sky, as if the earth itself had sprouted broken fangs. Survivors picked through the rubble with haunted eyes, scavenging not for treasure but for bodies, for proof that some part of their lives remained. The wind carried ash and something heavier—an echo of the Hollow that refused to vanish, a taste of shadow on every breath.