The Howling Werewolf Novels & Stories

I might’ve felt bad for the guy if he wasn’t a raging, misogynistic prick. The wolf’s eyes left Duncan for a fraction of a second, flicking over to my face. I held back a gasp, another glimmer of recognition hitting me square in the chest. No, this couldn’t be that wolf. It had been years since I’d last seen it. It was impossible. Faster than Duncan could scream, the wolf lunged. Its teeth sank into his shoulder, slicing through muscle and bone. He dragged Duncan out kicking and screaming, into the night where his cries continued without faltering.

As the members of the Crimson Pack tensed, their instincts sharpened, and their eyes narrowed in anticipation. The air became heavy with tension as the growl reverberated through the woods, causing the very ground to vibrate beneath their feet. Rey's heart pounded in her chest as she recognized the familiar scent—a scent that stirred a mixture of fear and familiarity within her. It was the scent of a rogue werewolf, one who had abandoned all ties to packs and lived a solitary and dangerous existence.

The air in the chamber didn't just chill; it died. The figure standing in the corner was a grotesque mockery of life. Ronan’s body, which Zayden had broken with his bare hands, stood upright, but his limbs moved with a disjointed, mechanical twitching. The void-black eyes leaked a dark, viscous smoke that pooled at his feet. This wasn't a werewolf. This was the Hollow—an ancient, forbidden rite of the Virex line used only when a challenger refused to stay dead.

But for a werewolf whose nervous system had been shattered by a silver cage, that rhythm felt like a hammer against his brain. The remaining Hollow-Men didn't use fire or blades; they used Discordant Chanting. They began to hum a fragmented version of the "Hush," a broken melody designed to trigger the trauma in a werewolf’s mind. "You are broken, little wolf," the mages hissed in unison. "The cage is still inside you. The silver is still in your marrow. Give us the crystal, and we will end the noise."

“Today shall be remembered in our history as the day regained my honor and my status as your supreme leader, the Prime Alpha, and the Alpha King of all werewolves. Now, to honor the memory of all those we have lost in this fight and as a salute to every survivor here tonight, we shall howl seven times to the moon. It has provided us with the light we needed to see and defeat our enemies.” There was a cheer amongst the werewolves at the Alpha King’s speech. Vak lifted his face to the moon and let out the first howl. Everyone else, except the humans in their midst, followed suit and howled to the moon. After the seventh howl, there was jubilation in the crowd and everyone was eager to return h

The sounds of punching, groans of pain, and crunching boots resounded around Andrew. His assailant huffed, pulling him up and tossing him into another tree trunk. "In werewolf hierarchy, the oldest or most powerful wolf shifts more swiftly than the others. He always howls first, before others can follow." A cold guttural voice remarked above the noise. "It's a sign of respect. Keep these things in mind when hunting wolves." He said. "Yes, master," his assailant and others chorused, panting heavily.

Until now, he couldn't even move a single finger. He raised his sad eyes, looking at the moonlight outside the window. Suddenly, Adam's body shook violently. Today is another full moon night. His body is extremely sensitive to moonlight. If it was a normal time, the people in the village would absolutely not let him see the moonlight so easily. But a few days ago, he heard someone talking in the village. They say that the witches have come to the village. They are werewolf hunters, extremely skilled hunters. Of course, for Adam, this must have been a nightmare.

Oliver said, recalling the conversation between Harvey and Elijah that he and Seth eavesdropped. “You won’t kill me. These are empty threats.” Harvey said. Seth let Rago take over a little bit of his body, he had the body of a wolf on the upper part of his body but from his waist downwards was the form of a man. “Wh-what I…I is go-go-ing on he-re” Harvey was petrified by the monster that stood before him. Humans never did well at their confrontation with a werewolf. It’s always the same petrified expression.

The crowd erupted into a frenzied buzz, the air thick with whispers and murmurs. The werewolves were all abuzz with excitement, chattering and whispering amongst themselves. I could hear them making jokes and jests, wondering if I would come out alive or if I'd be ripped to shreds in the ring. The high-status werewolves were particularly vocal, snickering amongst themselves as they talked about how ridiculous it was for a vampire to even consider fighting a wolf in their human form. They seemed convinced that I was signing my own death warrant by agreeing to the match.

Alex opened his eyes, even though it was only lit by the light from the moon coming in through my bedroom window I could still see the color of his eyes. "What are they doing?" "Ah ... Werewolves are creatures that need a pack, just like a pack. And sometimes not having a pack can make the werewolf a little frustrated to the point of going crazy, rogues often attack pack members, even injure them. They are dangerous, Cara. Sometimes they even form herd of fellow rogues to attack the pack." Alex yawned as he finished explaining it to me, his face looking very tired. "Oh ... " I replied while yawning, "I have to go to school tomorrow, I guess I should continue my sleep."