The Slayer Gamer Fanfiction Novels & Stories

That wasn't the question I expected to hear from him. "It doesn't matter, I'm just a slave, finding out will change nothing so i-" I shook my head fast. He cupped my cheeks so I would look directly in his eyes. I visibly gulped. "I can find them for you, and make them pay," he paused before adding, "excruciatingly." I didn't want to find out what is version of excruciating was. I was aware that it was Fiona by now but even though I hated everything about her, I still didn't want her to get in trouble, especially by the Lycan and so I shook my head negatively.

His voice came out shaky but he tried to sound smooth, using the moment like the snake he was. “Claire, thank God you’re finally seeing who he really is. He’s not good enough for you. You can’t be with someone like him. He’s a killer who doesn’t have a single conscience. Who in the world kills eight men with fully armed silver bullets and still stands there like it’s nothing? This is the time to make your choice, Claire. Come back with me. We can fix this. Your father will understand if you just—” I got fed up fast. His voice kept going, rambling like he still thought he had any say over me. I spun around on my heel, my palm already swinging towards his face—SLAP!!

Fucking prick! “Oh, Marcellus, I don’t know where the fuck you are, but I do know that this is your doing. This is not real. You are just playing with my mind again, you twisted cunt!” I screamed in a singing voice as I slashed through Lycan, who looked like my mother with my left hand and the one who looked like Malleteagan with my right hand. Purple smoke mixed with the electricity exploded from my arms along with my movements. I decapitated both forsaken, the Lycan that looked like my mother and one that reminisced of Malleteagan. They both evaporated in black and crimson dust. I continued to slay forsaken, one by one, effortlessly. Now that I have broken the mental barrier set by his lit

“i..I wo..would never think of us..having sex in the garden. Asher, maybe,'' I stuttered with continuous shaking and bobbling of my head. “But with you, I would never think of such.” His reply came as I hurried away with my remaining dignity out of the garden, “Well, the look on your face says otherwise.” “I would never, Alaric!” I yelled out at him. “Well, let me know if you ever change your mind, dear mate. For you, i can leave my shame just to satisfy your fantasy.” I shook my head slowly, increasing my pace with just one thought in my mind, I was a slut for Alaric. Alaric’s POV

- his unseeing look spoke of the memories that surfaced in his memory. - Not all Elian. Some of the hunters are too young. They are raised to hate supernatural beings. They are manipulated like puppets. They lead us without letting us know what we really are. - What do you suggest? Brandon spoke up. - Reach out! The Slayer leaned back in his chair and grinned grimly. - Do you think for so many centuries no one has tried? - They're not me. - Don't be so self-confident.

Wasn't this the game of the fates the old priest was mentioning, that my mere existence was enough to drop us in front of each other? I did not want to get him trapped with me, but I was selfish enough to not let him be someone else's. If he was not chasing me, he would obviously be after another female. He was a living being and he had his needs, he would not waste his whole life away just for a female he barely knew. Like Myself. He was ready to kill his own mate, why would he care too much about just an ordinary female who was a guard to his sister? But either way, unless I die, I didn't think it wouldn't affect me if he were to be with someone other than me.

I saw the lust in his eyes and knew his eyes mirrored mine. Abel cleared his throat, and everything shattered. All of the lust and pull came crashing down as I stepped backwards. He was Andrei’s brother. Blood siblings with my fated mate. I was not allowed to like him. Or want him. We both cleared our throats, and I looked away shyly. "I would walk alone, thank you," I said curtly as I stood up and hurried away. I placed my hand on the wall once I was out of sight. What nearly happened?!

Unity unquestionable. The world cheered. Inside, two people fought a war no one could see—against contracts, against families, against themselves. And somewhere beneath the performance, something irreversible had taken root. Not passion. Not fantasy. But something far more dangerous. Attachment.

You're probably jealous of him. —You're so foolish and naive that you fell in love with your tormentor. He's not the one you see from your window when you spy on him," she whispers in my ear, "He's a sadistic killer who takes girls, makes them his slaves and gives them such a torturous death that even though... they beg for their death, he dismembers them alive. My heart stops when I hear that. —That is not true. —My lips tremble as I say it. —It's... a lie.

“Sh‌e is⁠ playing mind games.​ But sh‌e hasn’t s​een my other version​s.” Leon stopped mov​ing. We were in the center of the floor, the music swelling ar​o‍und us, but we we‌r​e a s​tatue of raw, unadulterated fri​ction. He leaned down, hi⁠s br‍eath hot aga‌inst my mouth. “A‌nd‍ what version a‌m I looking at, Sloane⁠?”‌ “The one that‌ belongs to me,” I said, my voice dropp⁠i⁠ng‍ to a danger‌ous l​eve‍l. “The rea​l me. Not the professio​nal one.”