Swamp People: Blood And Guts Novels & Stories

My wolf is satisfied too. I pick up a pair of grey sweats and slip my long legs inside while River chooses a pair of mesh shorts and a tank top. I also find a t-shirt with an old rock band I actually like and pull it over my head. I look around the floor to see if there is anything else useful to bring along on our journey out of the swamp. We obviously can’t leave the way we came. We’ll have to go on our human legs to get the girls out and return to where our hunter band left the vehicles.

The reinforced steel door swung open, revealing the horrors lurking just beyond. They entered the dim, silent room with cautious steps, unsettled by Binge’s unusual quiet. The air itself felt hostile, thick with the metallic stink of blood and the nauseating reek of decaying limbs. Strewn about the floor were the scientists, each missing at least one limb, their torn flesh and viscera laid bare as they crawled, clinging to life by a thread of sheer will.

“Hypocrite!!!” “Deceiver!!!” Their voices drowned out mine as they grabbed my arms, pulling and tugging. “Someone help!!! Please help!!!” I cried out as my head was pushed into the swamp, I thrashed against the hands, watching in horror as bodies swam up to my face, screaming and screeching in my ears. My lungs burned with the urgent need to breath but they didn't let up, their voices a defeaning madness. I closed my eyes, trying hard to stay alive.

I adjusted the strap on my pack and stepped inside. The swamps were the next to test me. They weren’t just stagnant waters dotted with lily pads. They pulsed with life, breathing danger. Venomous snakes slithered beneath the surface like slick cords of death, their scales glinting as they coiled around fallen branches and snapped at any disturbance. The mud tugged at my boots like a beast eager to drag me under. At one point, I slipped, and my hand landed inches from a thick-bodied toad whose wart-covered skin dripped a luminous purple slime. I didn’t wait to find out what it did. I scrambled back, fear all over my being.

“There’s something I need to show you.” Alice frowned as Mira pulled out a small, leather-bound book, its edges worn and stained. She handed it to Alice, her fingers brushing hers—warm, too warm. “My family’s kept this for years. It’s… history. About the packs.” Alice opened it, her hands shaky. The pages were old, filled with cramped writing and strange symbols—circles, crescents, claws. One word jumped out: Hybrid. Her stomach twisted as she read a line: Born of man and moon, the one who carries both bloods shall break or bind the packs.

"Pull back, Kaelor! The Delta’s shifting—the ground is turning to liquid!" Aradaa’s voice shredded the humid air, sharp and desperate. He gripped a gnarled mangrove root, his knuckles white and trembling. The swamp water was no longer just black; it was a churning, oily red, swallowing the boots of the scavenger wolves. Kaelor didn't stop. He was a bronze blur in the fog, his flaming blade carving a path through the Sanguine Court’s frontline.

Tonight is gonna be for an adventure and shopping if whatever I'm expecting to see is here waiting for me. It was a bit of a narrow passage; I was sure the residents of the house around here were usually poor people, or they had failed to keep their surroundings tidy. The raunchy alleyway was devoid of all happiness; trash was scattered on the ground, and sewage water flowed through the open path. The vulgar smell towered over the natural night air; maybe it was the smell that they had warned about, not totally because a creature that I had planned to beat up to a stupor was there. It wasn't long before the dark alley opened up to outer space.

Now already on our third encounter… I should’ve known better than to hope. The water subsides as rapidly as it has come and I notice more of us have gone missing. I take big, hungry gulps of air while the elevator operator carries on as usual, ridiculously unfazed with just the daintiest trace of algae on his cap. My eyes follow the swampy river as it ebbs back to its original course. On the reddened banks, a sea of people are locked in a perpetual melee because everyone rises back up like rabid berserkers despite their mortal injuries.

I turned to run, but she grabbed my arm and pulled me alongside into the swamp. Mud and water rushed up around us, carrying rotting leaves and a fetid stench. I struggled on instinct, yet the harder I fought, the faster I sank. A swamp had no bottom, and it gave no one time to react. My breathing fell apart. Beside me, Stella screamed, stretching her hand toward the forest path. That was when I saw two figures sprinting toward us—Alexander and Christopher. In a daze, I watched Alexander rush to Stella without hesitation. He plunged half his body into the swamp and dragged her out of the sucking mud.

light in the stinky swamp. Luckily, these foul respawns of beasts, which looked like some deformed squirrels, were moving out of our way; it seemed they were afraid of us. Good, I really don't have time, interest, or will to play demonic pest control in this murky maze. This touted shortcut which should have been our salvation, as Norgarth explained, seemed like a rouse, a trap and like he was stalling us. I am starting to share Kandreah's mistrust and annoyance with Norgarth as we venture deeper into this scarcely-lit, stinky shitroad to central Macabantrah. We were meandering through the dim, putrid, vermin-infested sewer-like corridors, which reminded me of cra.ppy Damnarynth a lot. Its