Novelas y relatos de The Hound Of The Baskervilles Novel

She can't help herself they just bring back bad memories for me. Towards the end of the night the evening had died down only a few people where left In the restaurant. She makes myself a cup of tea and sits at the bar and drinks it waiting till the diners all leave. All of a sudden she felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand up turning around seeing the detective staring at her, he pulled out a bar stool and sat down and said to her " I'm sorry if I'm staring at you but you look really familiar, I don't know where I've seen you but I feel as though I now you, or maybe you look like someone I just can't figure it out". I smile at him and nod my head bring my hair down to cover the s

The words erupted from my chest in an intense, predatory roar. But her scent had vanished. Rain began to pour, interfering with any chance of tracking her trail. When I caught the smell of danger nearby, my fur bristled. I closed my eyes and heightened my Lupine instincts. There were rogue wolves lurking within the forest. More than that—there was a dangerous creature, one of Nocturnus’s lackeys, his guardian who hunted whenever his master unleashed him: a three-headed Cerberus, better known among humans as a hellhound.

she whispered. A low growl answered her question, coming from ahead. The growl grew louder, followed by the sound of claws scraping against stone. Olivia’s breath hitched as a pair of glowing eyes appeared in the darkness. “It seems they’ve planned for more than just men,” Victor whispered, with a smirk on his lips. The creature stepped into the light; a massive wolfhound with black fur and bared fangs, its eyes fixed on them. Olivia’s fingers tightened around her gun as fear passed through her.

Splinters rained to the floor as Basset shoved me forward, his sword already drawn. The manor that had always been my sanctuary now echoed with death and destruction. Smoke curled from the east wing. Somewhere, someone was crying out a name I didn’t recognize. My heart hammered against my ribs, desperate, frantic. We turned a corner, rushing toward the hidden tunnel that would lead me away, but before we could reach it, an explosion of wood and stone ripped the hallway apart. The North Riverbed wolves had breached the manor. One of them leapt into the hall, its monstrous form silhouetted by firelight, snarling as its glowing eyes landed on me.

His canines gleamed, dripping for death. His wolf lunged. Roman’s was ready—A white winter breed. They collided in the center of the room—over me. Blood filled the air as Roman’s snarl vanished. My vision swayed from fear until darkness swallowed me. Even then, in the black, I prayed Hermes made it out alive. *** I don’t know how long I drifted, but my wolf stirred when I felt him close. His shadow loomed, already shifted back. His breath ragged, his body streaked with blood that wasn’t all his. His wolf had been savage, primal, something that should have terrified me.

A wolfhound with a pistol at the ready grabbed my arm. - Astakhov! Boris bellowed at him. He almost did not look like a man anymore, and viscous saliva dripped from the animal's mouth. - You answer with your head! The wolfhound did not answer and pulled me along, paying no attention either to the bullets whistling overhead or to my cries addressed to Boris, whose luminous gaze I held until I disappeared around the corner.

the Black Hound finished. The bald man brought out his pistol and pointed it at Black Hound. He pushed the button to the ground floor. Black Hound neither spoke nor reacted. He just merely looked at the armed man. His eyes were cold, and his expression was blank. The armed man trembled, unsure of what to do next. "You and I will walk to my car," The bald man said as he moved closer to the Black Hound. Black Hound hesitated for a moment but eventually did as he was told, he was curious to see where this was going end. He felt the man jam the gun weakly into his back.

The hounds were drawing closer, one limping slightly. The wolf growled, a thunderous sound that shaked my very being. I lowered my head, snapping my eyes closed as it suddenly pounced but I never felt the sharpness of its claws ripping my skin. It attacked the hounds, swiping its long claws at the belly of the wounded hound. The wolf bit into the neck of the hound ripping its throat out mercilessly. It fell to the ground gurgling its own blood, its body twitching uncontrollably, unable to die. I felt sorry for the poor creature. While the wolf was occupied with the hound, its friend bit at its large hind leg. The wolf was 3 times the size of the hound if not bigger but the hounds bite burned

We dived into the dark woods of Black-Ridge just as the first howl of the Hounds shattered the silence of the forest—a sound that d idn't come from a throat, but from the void itself.

“The one who conquered half of the world. Well, right now, when it comes to werewolves, the closest thing we have to Genghis Khan is the Hellhound. Granted before the Mongols finished their conquering spree.” “What?” That guy was definitely not the brightest bulb in the box. “The hellhound has conquered a bunch of packs already, but not half of the world.” Ethan explained. “Yet,” I interjected. He eyed me but continued. “He’s also reputed to answer to challenges pretty brutally.” “You don’t know how brutal he can get,” Hellhound Girl said to the guys. There was a fire in those eyes that I liked. She was probably imagining them burning at the stake and she enjoyed the idea.