Slither Novels & Stories

The day before our wedding, my fiance, Brandon Foster, and his girl bestie pulled out their wedding certificate at the casino. Brandon shrugged as he said, "It's just a joke—we'll be divorced tomorrow, and everyone knows that Wanda and I are strictly platonic." Wanda Stiles, however, was smiling provokingly. "Come on—they say marriage is sacred, so you guys can quit gawking already and hand us our wedding presents!" Everyone around the table laughed, with someone saying, "Alright! I own a business in the West End, and you can have it for your wedding… if you beat me at the dice game. Table rules." I didn't argue and merely sat at the table, smiling faintly as I met Brandon's frown. "The

The irony made his expression darken. Before meeting her, he had treasured silence. Now the silence irritated him because she wasn't there to ruin it. His fingers moved through the water, creating small ripples around him. For thousands of years, Silver had waited for his destined mate without impatience. A few thousand years had meant nothing to an immortal serpent. Yet somehow, two days without Rizz felt unbearably long. His eyes narrowed at that realization. Ridiculous. He tilted his head back and stared at the moon through the branches.

But didn’t go out. “Go out, Ruben. This is going to be uglier than you could have even imagined at any time.” I instructed him, raising my hand high, but in Slither’s direction. Its venom was so poisonous that it could burn anything it came into contact with. I wanted to test the theory of whether it had turned my blood into a weapon or not. Slither moved its head back and forth as if it were trying to move away, but it only made it bleed more.

* Maya stared at the darkness, feeling pieces move on a chessboard she couldn't fully see. Tomorrow she became a Hart. And then the real game would begin.

"A turtle?" "A turtle," Liam repeated firmly, completely serious. "If you put a snail and a turtle on a track right now, the turtle clears the finish line before the snail moves two inches. A snail doesn't even have legs, Raph. It glides on slime. It’s physically incapable of speed."

No slaves and no noise, just the wind. Glacy crouched under a bridge, staring at her bloodstained palms. “Stupid girl,” she muttered to herself, her voice thick with tears she tried to hide. “You should have known better than to let her speak.” The water below rippled and a small snake slithered towards her ankle. She recognized the snake, one of the ones born of Tilly’s spilled blood, its scales still slick with crimson, eyes raw and rimmed with red. It looked up at her.

He had two knives in his hands now and before Slither could even blink, Jake stabbed each knife into his shoulders. “Any last words, Slither?” “Who the fuck are you?” Slither asked him with a grimace. “Wrath.” Jake pulled the knives from his shoulders and turned the blades, swiping them across Slither’s throat. Blood sprayed over Jake’s face, and when he turned around, his eyes looked lifeless. He walked past Weasel, back in the direction of where they left the van, and Weasel jogged to catch up with him. Neither man said a word and Jake climbed into the back of the

Dimitri wins. I die a stray in a hole. Then she heard it. Slither. A soft, wet drag to her left. Slither. Hiss. Not boots. Not claws. Like a snake made of tar scraping over stone. Instinct clawed up through the shock. Move. She tried to drag herself backward. Her fingers scraped bone, leaving faint grooves. Her arms shook. Nothing from the waist down responded. The dark around her shifted. Thickened. Stopped feeling like air.

he rasped, each word dripping with the primal force clawing its way to the surface. The first snap of bone echoed like a gunshot. His arm twisted unnaturally as it stretched, muscles knotting and tearing only to rebuild themselves thicker, stronger. Another crack followed as his shoulders broadened, his body lengthening with each agonizing jolt. The chains groaned, then screamed under the mounting pressure. His breaths became raw and animalistic, each one dragging him further into a place where thought ceased and instinct reigned.

As the heavy door slammed shut behind her, Serena’s hands fumbled along the walls, desperate to ground herself in the oppressive dark. Then she heard it — a faint, skin-prickling rustle. Her fingertips brushed against something slick and cold. The sudden, unmistakable slither of a snake made her heart leap into her throat. She shrieked, the sound bouncing eerily off the walls, returning to her tenfold, amplifying her terror.