Virche Evermore Novels & Stories

I will give him more than he bargains for. I go to my new home, a plain suburban affair. It is furnished. Quickly, not breaking a sweat, I move most of the furniture into the garage. Then I retire to the master bedroom, draw all the shades, and lie down on the hard wooden floor and close my eyes. The sun has drained my strength, I tell myself. But as I doze off I know it is also the people I have met this day that have cut deep into me, where my iron blood flows like a black river over the cold dust of forgotten ages, dripping onto this green world, onto the present, like the curse of the Lord himself. I hope to dream of Krishna as I fall asleep, but I do not. The devil is there instead. Yak

I don’t mean shattered. I mean it exploded outwards, the room flaring with light and smoke and howling magic. I was thrown backward. Jasmine hit the floor, and Damion- Damien grabbed my wrist before I slammed into the dresser, pulling me up. Through the mist she stepped. Vira. Not as a vision. As a woman, black cloaked, flames within her eyes and rune scars etched into both her arms. She had Jasmine’s face, but older and harder. “Hello, sister,” she said. She spoke in a voice that made the walls bleed frost. Jasmine didn’t move. She couldn’t. Vira pointed to herself with one hand.

But Mandy met her end instead. Victor smiled and moved to the final display. This time, he removed the cover slowly—dramatically. “This,” he said, pausing for suspense, “is the new frontier. We named it Virexil-B—a biotech weapon designed to erase entire structures silently. Once exposed to air, it spreads like a sentient acid—melting steel, concrete, and all living things until nothing remains. It's not a bomb. It's smarter—cleaner, and completely untraceable. Perfect for those who wish to cripple a nation without firing a single bullet.”

A forest, older than the Northwood, twisted and scorched at the edges. Children ran barefoot between trees with silvered leaves, laughing, wild. A woman knelt at a stream, blood on her palms, her breath shaking. Above them all, the sky cracked—not with lightning, but with shadow. Not darkness. Absence. And from it, things poured. Things with no names. Things that fed on forgetting. The woman turned. Her eyes were the color of starlight over snow. Vira. Elise knew it—not from stories, not from scrolls.

to return. "It’s beautiful," Kael whispered, his voice cracking. He stood by the fire, the heat reflecting in his eyes—eyes that were no longer searching for a HUD or a thermal overlay, but simply trying to perceive the texture of reality. "It’s... it’s not a script. Look at the way the wind moves its fur. That’s not a loop." The villagers of Evergreen had fallen back into the shadows of their shipping-container homes, spears leveled but shaking. To them, the "Steel-Ghost" was gone, but the Wild was an even older terror.

**THE WHORE OF AETHELGARD: HOW THE THORNE WARD STOLE THE BILLIONAIRE.** **FROM CHARITY CASE TO SHE-DEVIL: VESPERA VANE’S BETRAYAL.** **IS CYPRIAN HALE THE VICTIM OF A HONEY TRAP?** The headlines scrolled across the sixty-inch holographic display in the kitchen, each one nastier than the last. Vespera’s face—pixelated and blown up from the gala footage—was plastered on every news network in Neo-Veridia.

This pull is strange, scary but amazing. The problem now is, how do I keep the most stubborn Vampire to ever exist safe without having a fight with her?

The bond wasn’t complete yet—but something had begun. She stepped back first. “After the breach. Then we seal it.” I nodded. That was her way of saying yes. Of choosing me. We reached the ruins just before nightfall. Virelin was a scarred place—burnt walls overtaken by vines, stones that still hummed with old spells long forgotten. The village had been a battlefield once, and time hadn’t softened its edges. But tonight, something new drifted in the air. Something wrong. The center of the village was untouched by decay. That was the first sign. The grass grew too evenly. The air was too still. Even the stone circle in the middle, once a shattered council ring, looked freshly carved.

I whisper, just loud enough for Kai and Dylan to hear, “we don’t fight unless absolutely necessary. Eyes open. Magic down.” Dylan nods. “No glitter bombs. Got it.” Kai glances at him. “Still not funny.” “A little funny.” I bite back a smile. “Focus.” The path winds through tangled forest and ancient ruins, leading us deeper into the old vampire stronghold. The closer we get, the heavier the air becomes, thick with blood and death. After a final bend, we see it: the outer gates of Vize’s estate. Black iron, wrapped in thorns that glint with silver specs. Beyond it, a spiraling manor built into the mountain’s side, half castle, half cathedral, with towers stretching like fangs into the sky. T

GOLDEN-VILLE 15th October 1865 His dead mother was found lying in the middle of the streets. Raindrops were splashing on the earth. Her clothes were drenched by the flow of water on the paths in the streets. Strands of her hair were dampened in the rain and the liquid had washed off the blood that was on her arms and neck leaving scratches and bite marks. Around her neck was the exact red amulet that Darius stole from him. Vadim could see the bite marks. She was murdered by vampires. Her skin was cold and her eyes were open. Vadim whimpered as he closed her eyes, grasping her head and pulling her cold body closer. He couldn't believe it. She was gone. The only soul on earth who had always be