Strangers From Hell Character Novels & Stories

In seconds, the deformed being lay on the ground — a withered carcass, drained of essence, of life. Sasha struggled to his feet, leaning against what remained of the tree. Blood ran down his arm, the exposed bone in his shoulder throbbing with raw pain. “Okay… That was impressive. Who the hell are you?” The stranger turned slowly, his red eyes burning beneath the black hair. “You don’t need to know.” His voice was low, velvety, and cold — like a whisper carried by the night. “That’s very ‘B-movie villain’ for me, big guy.” Sasha raised his uninjured hand, half in surrender, half in provocation. “You saved my skin, apparently. Thanks… I think?”

Her gaze traveled upward, taking in the chiseled features of the stranger who had saved Sonia's life. He was dressed in black, his brown hair perfectly messy, and a rose tattoo adorned his neck, accompanied by a bold, black letter "D". For a moment, Lolo forgot to breathe, was he even human, wild cat eyes, jew clenched so hard she thought he might be grinding her teeth together. The stranger's piercing eyes locked onto Sonia's, and Lolo felt like she was witnessing something profound. "Sonia..." Lolo called out, rushing to envelop her friend in a tight hug.

I followed Rose through the crowd as she tugged me toward a small group. “Liam, this is Shaurya my best friend ,” She said. Shaurya smiled, extending a hand. “Pleasure to meet you.” I shook it, eyeing him briefly. Shaurya looked Indian, but there was something cold in his expression. The warmth or gentleness that I had often seen in the people in India is missing . His gaze was too sharp, his smile too calculated, just like that of a spy . We walked over to other friends , I greeted them politely.

After what felt like several hours of waiting, Tyler opened his eyes only to see that he was the only person on the street. "What the hell?" He gasped, stumbling to his feet and looking around for Luke and his friends. He was sure that they were here only a moment ago, the bruises on his body and his broken bracelet were proof that Luke and his friends had been here before they suddenly disappeared. Whatever had mysteriously taken them away, Tyler gave it a small appreciation before running home. When he was far gone, a figure materialized from the shadows, with Luke and his friends' lifeless bodies levitating in mid-air.

Seren stumbled back, shielding her eyes. From the shadows, a figure emerged. Not Kael. Not Cassian. But someone else. “Step away from her,” the stranger said, voice like molten silver. And I knew—whatever this was… it wasn’t over. It was just beginning.

I struggled to release myself, but the stranger grip was tight. His face was covered with a hood, so I wasn't able to get a better look on his face. But his scent is undeniably familiar, he's from that blood moon pack. He held my hand without saying anything then suddenly he said, " Damn, You are one feisty girl" Only one person is obsessed with the word " Damn" and he's the half brother of Mikhail. IVAR

The stranger walked through our strongest barriers like they didn't exist. Victor and Liora exchanged looks. The kind of looks that said they knew something they hadn't shared. The stranger's eyes found mine, and holy supernatural explosion — all five of my aspects responded at once. Like they recognized something ancient and powerful and somehow connected to my very existence. “Hello, little star,” he said softly, “It's been a very long time.” “Who are you?” I whispered.

He roared at Brian. But I know he was talking to me, “We don’t need you in our life, I just came to tell you, that’s all!” I didn’t know where the strength and courage came from, so I shot at him and turned around to face the exit door. “Get out of my office you whore… you can open your leg for a stranger but you are angry when that same stranger calls you a thief, why did you sleep with me that night if you had no ulterior motion” he screamed at me.

Together, we step forward to meet our uncertain future head-on, our bond stronger than ever in the face of adversity. The strangers, a group of four, are dressed in attire that's unfamiliar to our region. Their garments are adorned with intricate patterns and symbols that hint at a culture vastly different from our own. As they approach, I notice the way their eyes dart around, assessing their surroundings with a mix of curiosity and caution. “Good afternoon,” one of them says, stepping forward with an air of authority. His voice is smooth, his words accented with a cadence that's foreign to my ears. “I am Alaric, and these are my companions. We come seeking shelter and assistance.”

He wore a wide-brimmed hat, with a face as pale as death. Chester paid little attention to this stranger. Everyone in the Central Bay Tower were ants to him—even an ambush wouldn’t scratch him. He had achieved his purpose and wasn’t in the mood for more killing, so he chose to turn a blind eye and walked past. But the figure slowly rasped, “You're Chester Synder, the strongest man in Aston, right?” Chester instinctively glanced back. “I didn't feel like killing you, so why are you seeking death?” His eyes suddenly fell upon the chilling V-shaped tattoo on the stranger’s arm.