Shadows Web Novels & Stories

The lights in the room seemed to fade, and the children faded around her: Everything disappeared, and she was left alone in that cold, dark room. The metallic smell of blood laced through the room, and she turned around to be surrounded by the ghost of those children. They were covered in blood. Some of their arms and legs twisted abnormally and some sustained deep wounds. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t. Her feet were glued to where she stood. They all neared her in that circle, they wanted to hurt her: They walked closer to her. Closer: Closer:

“But the man is rabid. So are his goons. Did I tell you they stole a shipment of antiques from one of my clients? They were furious. My reputation, as you know, is my most precious commodity. That almost cost me my business.” Vescovi pulled his chair closer to the bed, leaning in like a conspirator trading secrets. “We don’t talk about the shadows either. I think it was retribution for what we did to our makers. How fitting for our creations to almost drive us to extinction. Luckily, our elders knew when to pick up their skirts and run. The werewolves—you all thought you could fight. Our elders made those shadows from pure dark soul magic. They are death,” he whispered, death like the very m

“The Shadows are very good at hiding and making illusions to confuse their enemies. What happened back there was an illusion and we needed to use fire arrows to destroy their defense. They had formulated techniques that will make them move stealthily without being detected, in addition to that they used potions and oils to cover their scents so werewolves and other creatures won’t be able to detect their presence. And it’s a huge advantage for them, especially for those who are lost in the forest.” It was Reed who explained to Ember. Her brows frowned. “What are they? Are they human or werewolves? I’ve never seen them transform into a werewolf.” That was what she noticed when they were being

"I'm afraid it's true, sir," He starts shaking his head. He takes a deep breath before his eyes start to get glassy. I stay rooted in place as he tries to breathe, placing his hand over his chest. His attempt is in vein; he starts hyperventilating. Before I can move to assist, Sanchez breezes past me and steps into the house.

That man was a legend, not just in the Shadow Web Syndicate, but throughout the entire dark web! He had vanished for many years, yet stories about him continued to circulate, never fading. No one had expected that this elusive figure would choose this moment to return, silently but in a manner explosive enough to shake the entire web. With just one account login, the dark web was set ablaze. On the Shadow Web Syndicate's page, as the account logged in, the entire screen turned blood red, like a vast ocean of blood. A massive Grim Reaper's scythe appeared on the blood-red screen.

Nobody's POV In the basement, the Shadows loaded their guns, put on some gloves, and protected their heads, bodies, and legs. And they were very much ready for movement. The time was 4:32pm. They headed out, driving speedily on the highways like they owned the town. Of course they did. The two huge lorries followed the SUVs. When they got to Dock Twelve, the yard appeared deadened with silence. They say silence is the calm before the storm. But in the world of Shadows, silence usually means someone’s already dead, or about to be.

I asked, looking at three who stood across from us. “We thought the Shadow of death was a man, never thought it could be a woman.” Luciano said. Why, because they just assumed only men could be doing something like this and no woman could be capable of inflicting so much fear on the world. Having them look over their shoulders scared for their lifes, owndering who it was becasue the Shadow of death could be walking next to them or be around them very where and don't even know who it was.

“The shadows. They like you. That’s why the shadow spawn have grown so attached to their Lady.” “I don’t understand.” “The shadow spawn—you’re their Lady. Just like Marian has hers, though my sister’s barely speak or touch her; they only serve. Yours even bathe you. I heard about it,” he teases. “What does that have to do with these ones clinging to my feet?” “The shadow spawn aren’t from our world; they live in another dimension. But their shadows always linger near their Ladies. The ones rubbing against your feet right now are their shadows—they follow you, listen to you, and whenever you need them, they call the spawn back to serve their Lady.”

It is merely a black figure, with no dimension, but it is HER shadow, I know. I watch as slowly its image of only night finally dissolves and takes her image, that familiar face of beauty forming, color restoring. Shadows are mirrors. A replica of the being, or otherwise also, a copy of the soul. Much like the eyes, they two tunnel a pathway to the core of their owner. They see all, they know all. And though they follow harmlessly, they feel what their individuals feel, see, touch, and hear. As I watch every piece of her is formed. Every curve is identical. From the tumbles of her hair, to the curve of her hips and the light graze of her skirt that moves whimsically as if taken by the wind.

"Can you cut the connection?" "That is where it gets complicated." Ben pulled up a holographic model that showed the Ledger's transaction architecture as a vast, luminous web. Threaded through it, barely visible, was a darker web. Not separate. Integrated. "The shadow ledger is not a parasite in the traditional sense. It is a natural byproduct. Every time the Ledger processes energy, the shadow is cast automatically. You cannot stop a shadow without eliminating the light source." "You are telling me we cannot close the mirror's bank account without shutting down our own."