Ruthless Creatures Novels & Stories

It screeched, whipping around for another attack— But the original prototype lunged, slamming into it mid-air. It bit into the mutant’s neck, corrupt fluid spraying across the snow. Lena cried out as the creatures collided in a frenzy of claws and bone. “WHY ARE THERE SO MANY?!” she screamed. Rhea pulled her up, panting. “Because they were made for YOU!” Lena shook her head violently. “No — no, I’m nobody, I’m just—” Rhea grabbed her shoulders, eyes burning.

I wink at her, just for the sake of fun. "They have their lands only because they're so dangerous, and no one can conquer them. I've heard that only one creature can kill them, but they are almost extinct, or maybe there aren't any left. The bleeders don't stop at feeding on blood. No, they love the process. First, they poke out the victim's eyeballs to make sure their feast won't be able to escape. Then, they skin them alive and inject a small amount of venom from their nails. The venom doesn't kill the victim yet- it keeps the blood fresh and the veins unaffected while the flesh slowly rots. It's a long and painful process. Finally, when they feel the feast is done, they rip out the organs

she said with her best accent. "Seriously, Ruthie," I practically yelled. "The list!" Sometimes her inability to focus drove me nuts. "Okay, okay. Sticking to the list." She glanced at her paper again. "The first time the uli were turned into different creatures they included wolves called usi, birds called shar, and some kind of sea creature called akhu. But Dr. Frankler didn't say what these sea creatures looked like." Luke snorted. "For all we know, they could have been octopus," he said, chuckling.

She looked at me with an expression that made me realize that she has seen some things that made her hate them. "I know you were a rogue before but our experience with rogues was extremely…traumatizing. I cannot think of them as normal wolves because of what we went through…I–I didn't mean to offend you…" "I know, Ruth." I gave her a small smile. "I don't blame you for feeling that way. I want you to know hunters are way worse. Rogues are werewolves and they mostly attack if they want resources or if they have an issue with the packs but hunters aren't like that. They attack for money, pleasure, or just for the mere need of entertainment. They have members from different species and they are

These were vicious, flesh and blood-representations of oppression and brutality, not just pleasure seekers and show-offs. I slowly turned to face the raging hordes positioned behind me. The difference in size didn't matter because these creatures had been formed during eons of struggle. Their familiarity with the beat and tempo of lust was equal to that of a lover's kiss. And at my command, they would transform into an unstoppable tidal force of mayhem and carnage that would submerge all in their path beneath an unending sea of red. "This is the hour we have striven for, brothers and sisters!" I let out a shout, sensing the walls of my restraint giving apart irrevocably. "Too long have we su

Two days later Grasis’s POV I am Grasis, a cruel and ruthless mafia man who just love to torture others. By torture other, I get pleasure so that I can forget my painful memories. I do not hurt any innocent but I love to torture sinful people. In this bloody adventure, I started drinking blood and rape the girls. I hated my mother so I hate every woman of this word until I met her. She was innocent, she was pure. I just want to keep her with me. I do not want to take her free. I torture her, I give her pain but all was because of love, my immense love.

The battle was about to begin. From the shadows, they emerged – creatures born of nightmare, twisted parodies of nature itself. They were grotesque, their bodies a horrifying fusion of flesh and shadow, their movements jerky and unnatural. Some were vaguely humanoid, their limbs elongated and twisted, their skin a sickly, pallid green. Others were more monstrous, hulking behemoths with razor-sharp claws and teeth that dripped with a viscous, black ichor. They were the remnants of the ancient entity’s corruption, its failed creations, driven by a mindless rage and a thirst for destruction.

The group cautiously advanced, their weapons at the ready, their instincts honed for any sign of aggression. As they pressed on, the silence was abruptly shattered by a cacophony of screeches and growls. From the shadows emerged grotesque creatures, their twisted forms a nightmarish sight to behold. The creatures had gnarled limbs and razor-sharp claws, their eyes burning with an insatiable hunger.

She asked bitterly, because that was the reality they were facing. "That kind of death is too easy for you. I still want you to face the hell that has not yet fully burned." Irony within irony. Svanna's suddenly blank eyes stared straight over Nightroe's shoulder as the man bent down to fondle her. The cruel creature had just admitted that his vile behavior so far was nothing. There was still a much more painful part, and Svanna felt... she would never be able to face the terrible events that Nightroe would offer in the future.

Brielle screams from inside the cabin as a trunk slides across the floorboards. Before I can answer, six massive shadow-wolves leap out from the darkness of the tree line, their black fur matted with rain, their red eyes glowing with feral, untamed madness. They do not carry pack scents. They carry the rancid, copper stink of rogues. "Stay inside, Brielle!" I yell, drawing my iron broadsword from the scabbard beside the driver's seat and leaping down into the mud.