Thanatos X Zagreus Novels & Stories

Exhaustion once again bends my body to his will and I lay flat for him, envisioning his advance. My master lets me receive his length and have it in me for as long as I require. I sense that soon I could pass out. The leather leash around my neck tightens. I once again lose the blood to my brain and gain the pleasure of suffocation. His cock thrusts heavily back and then forth again. I scream in ecstasy - this time I know. Thanateros is within me. Thanateros has his cold death-grip around my throat and his divine cock deep inside of me.

Her essence was returning. "Thanatos!" she roared. "Step aside, or be erased." Thanatos turned toward the light—and I struck. I hurled the dagger of rebirth into his chest. He screamed. The sound ripped through the realms. His body exploded into shards of darkness. I stood alone. Or so I thought. "That was only a piece of me," said a voice from the shadows. Thanatos reformed—not as a being, but as many. His figure split into a dozen shadow clones, each carrying a different weapon.

Given that forsaken are made of the chthonic essence of masters of Oribus, this was an easy fight for Thersar, Nexelex and warriors. That’s it. I had my fair share of fun in battering Denexus. Given that I don’t want to mar my palate with Denexus’ blood, I have pulled out Kris chthonic daggers and cut both of his hands in a quick motion. He fell to his knees, snarling and groaning. In yet another brisk move, I stuck both daggers in his chest. And the essence of Denexus was sucked in my kris daggers.

His gaze, pupils slitted like a cat’s, found Zarek across the dais. Zarek, the incubus, was his mirror and his opposite. Where Xandros was built of sly grace and subtle temptation, Zarek was pure, unadulterated power. Broad-shouldered and thickly muscled, his skin carried the faint shimmer of embers, and heavy horns curled from his brow. He met Xandros’s look with a smoldering challenge, a raw, magnetic pull already humming between them.

"The coastal station is compromised. There’s an old subway tunnel five miles from here that leads to the 'Dead Zone'—the ruins of the first city. That’s where Life Zero began." ​We ran. ​The five miles felt like five minutes. With the Scythe active, my physical limits were gone. I was a blur of violet light, and Julian—connected to me through the bond—kept pace, his movements fluid and lethal. We were no longer a doctor and a patient; we were two halves of a single, devastating storm. ​We reached the entrance to the "Dead Zone"—a rusted iron gate swallowed by overgrown vines that pulsed with a strange, sickly blue light. This was where the "Modern World" ended and the "Supernatural World" be

He stopped pounding and collapsed outside. At that moment, footsteps and roars rose from the distant stairwell and grew denser and louder. Julian's screams, along with the fresh blood from his leg, had drawn every zombie in the building toward him. In the darkness, more than a dozen pairs of faint green eyes locked onto Julian on the floor. Roar! The horde surged into the hallway like a flood breaking through a dam and instantly surrounded him. "Ah!" The zombies pounced on Julian, their sharp teeth tearing open his throat, ripping into his chest, and pulling out his organs. In unbearable regret and pain, Julian watched helplessly as his body was torn apart piece by piece.

He snickered while standing before me with his hands folded across his muscled chest. I clenched my jaw in anger, trying to stop myself from getting into a fight with him. These were the words he usually said anytime something goes awry. As vampires, we were unknown to the world, which made us live in seclusion. Nome of us wished to be lab rats. Although we had powers that surpassed humans but after what happened to thousands of our kind years ago, we no longer took risks. “Sebastian, what the hell do you want?” I calmly said through gritted teeth with my fists balled beside me. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction he always wished to see.

"Valerie Nott... Tatiana Black... oh, and look here, the sad widow herself. Tatiana was pressed against the wall near Brock's casket. Her face was the color of ash. Valerie had gone perfectly still. Like a rabbit hoping the wolves wouldn't see her. "Now," Scarface said. He pulled out a switchblade. He used it to clean his fingernails. "I don't care if the man's dead. Dead men's debts don't disappear. They pass to family." The blade clicked as he folded it shut. The sound made half the room flinch.

Gesturing to his body "This here is the full package and I don't intend to misuse it alright?" He laughed and Jason joined they put on the radio and nodded to the trendy hit "Gock am" by the upcoming artist Crayon when suddenly. The car tire screeched its bonnet crashing into a hard surface with a loud bang. Jason stepped on the brake fearfully. The smell of petrol and coal tar filled their nostrils they looked at each other in silence with the effect of the alcohol washing off immediately.