Tales Of Dark River Novels & Stories

Ryan There’s a river that runs through the Deadlands. The same river that splits Eastonia in two. On the other side, mountains hug the horizon, blurring the view of Tarsian beyond. In the Deadlands, the river is… wide, but still. A large, lumbering stretch of clear water that weaves through the plains. Here, in the Roguelands, in what used to be a city called Twin Rivers, now nothing but a husk of what it was twenty or so years ago when Ryatt and Ella were young, that same river is angry and narrow, full of rapids and rock.

There was no water to form the waterfall and the river that was supposed to be flowing with life, was completely desiccated. “What happened?” Layla asked as she looked at the sad picture below her. “Her.” The other version spoke, again leaving Layla confused with her ambiguous words. Layla looked up at her other version, but she was staring out into the distance. Layla looked at what she was staring at, it was a dark shadow. The image was unclear, but it didn’t matter, Layla wasn’t supposed to see what lurked on the other side of the river, but more like feel it – understand it. Layla could feel the evil, she could sense the danger that was radiating from the darkness, the heavy pain and sor

My heart was pounding fast and I was no longer sure if I was scared of the rogues around us or of the terrifying display of River’s power. I squinted my eyes and from within the fog, I saw shadowy outlines that were trapped inside his crimson shadow, they were writhing, falling, and then going still as if something about the mysterious smoke was sucking the life out of them. Whatever it was, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know. River walked towards them like death himself. I could see his golden eyes glowing intensely through the hazy smoke of crimson fog. He grabbed one of the rogues by the neck and a loud snap echoed before the rogue dropped on the ground, lifeless. My stomach churned.

“IT’S JUST I HAD a different book in mind when ink spilled on this one, plus what’s left to do in a finished book?” They, of course, ignored me Completely probably deciding if I would not explain, they were just going to proceed. One of the three waved their hand above the inky darkness we were standing on, and instantly a book on a pedestal was in front of them on the floor. It showed off my title, ‘1001 Dark Tales’. I instantly held my breath, hoping they didn’t realize what that meant. But if they had, they said nothing. Instead, they just started flipping through the pages of the book, looking for which store to choose.

" Before Father could even breathe, the old nurse who had cared for him and my aunt since childhood was dragged in. She cried that Father was innocent, that he had never had even half a moment of intimacy with another woman. A sword slit her throat before she could say more. The second was Father's personal attendant, a young man who had been like a brother to him. He begged Mother to spare Father, but the guards dragged him to the pond and held him underwater until he drowned. Screams, pleas, and sobbing filled the chapel. Father broke down and lunged toward them, but the guards held him so tightly that he could not move an inch.

His father knowing his son used to be scared of darkness, dry and vacant places. That’s how his father decided to punish that little boy, wherever he wished something from his father, he used to lock him over in a room which he named it ‘a darkroom’, he scared him way too much that whenever somebody asked him if his father is treating him badly, he could only think of his own shouts and plead to his father. Never dared to tell anyone about a single abuse. Brandon knew if he opened his mouth and his father got to listen to complaints against himself, he would be a dead man by the next day.

"No, no, no, you really aren't." The black mist surged, trying to quell the man's icy demeanor. The man, however, did not think much of it and opened his arms, lying down towards the incredibly quiet Dark River behind him. That was the deepest part of hell. He has always been reckless and unruly. When he looked up, not a single spirit had just come up to disturb him. Those desires that were originally surging out as soon as he entered the Dark River, scattered and fled before they could even touch him.

I tilted my head, asking her if there was anything she needed. “Nat? What’s wrong?” I asked. She didn’t speak. Rather, she pulled me closer. Her face is now buried under my neck and her heavy sighs are creeping through my skin. “Natyaramona!” I called again, probing for the matter. “B-blood....” she managed to utter before fainting in my arms. My eyes widened as my body froze. Natya is a witch and a she-wolf. Her asking for blood could only mean one thing - she was successfully converted into a vampire.

At night, she hears whispers in the water. On the third night, Evelyn sees a flickering light drifting down the river. She follows it—drawn by something she doesn’t understand—and finds a wooden boat with a burning lantern and an old journal inside. The pages are filled with entries from a woman named Alara who speaks of binding spells, river spirits, and a curse upon her bloodline. The last page is stained and unreadable

She held onto Sasha for support as she whispered his name with all the strength she could gather. "Nolan". She managed. A few minutes ago when they arrived, she had promised herself that she was going to talk him out of whatever he intended to do. But seeing him right now, all the courage she had dissipated into thin air. All she could do at this point was stare at him because the man in front of her was like a nightmare. In his eyes was nothing but terror. All the love and care he had a few years back had been transformed into something else. All the light in his eyes was lost and replaced with darkness. It was all revealed.