Vortex Helluva Novels & Stories

“You’re the most shameless woman I’ve ever met. Get the hell out. If I see you on Steele land again, I’ll have you put down like a stray.” He turned his back on me and stormed inside, his shoulders rigid. Lexi lingered, her face twisted in triumph. “Nice show. Too bad nobody’s buying. Go back to the gutter where you belong, peasant.” I pulled my bag tight and swallowed the lump in my throat. I looked at the sky, half-expecting a miracle, half-expecting to die in the cold. Then, the air began to vibrate. A heavy, rhythmic thrumming shook the trees. A sleek, matte-black helicopter with the Vaughn crest—a silver wolf's head—descended from the clouds, its blades whipping the dirt into a frenzy.

“Aiden, you can’t. That thing whatever, whatever will,t, ear you apart if you go after her.” “Then it tears me apart,” he answered, his voice hard. “Because I’m not leaving her in there.” Inside the Vortex The realm was unlike anything Iris had ever seen—an endless area of darkness that seemed to stretch forever in every direction. The air was thick and stifling, and whispers of her name repeated slightly, unsettling her. She turned, her heart beating, as Damon emerged from the shadows. His form seemed bigger, more intimidating as if the tornado fed his power. “This is where you’ll die, little wolf,” he sneered, his words echoing through the void.

It sucked after a long overnight shift, but it beat a drunk driver walking away. Terry's 1970 Corvette LT1 sits under a custom tarp so it escapes sun damage. The Vette is cherry red and gorgeous. If Terry wasn't such a douche, I would have taken him up on his offer to drive the Vette around the block to check out how she handles. I also discovered that Terry's offers are aliases for a quickie against the side of any semi-private shaded area he can find. I swear I couldn't make this shit up. I'm even sure Terry has his Lothario locations mapped out. With these thoughts, imaginary, creepy-crawlies slide across my skin. Why does my life suck so bad that I need to come here in hopes of a new cas

Then, Elaine and I started our new lives. Sometime later, I received a few videos from Mr. Quinton. The man in one of them was barely recognizable—he didn't even seem remotely human. He was curled up in a rusty cage, and his chest had collapsed. His ears and nose were missing, and he kept slamming his head on the side of the cage, leaving it bloody. Lindsey was the focus of the other videos. Her hair was a mess, and her gaze was unfocused. She was naked in a basement. She looked like she was in better condition than Harvey was, though.

I can make out several figures hovering over me. They're speaking a language I don't understand. Most of them are dressed in white and I realise I might as well be in hell. “Oh God! Let this not be real!” I wish in my heart. “Mr. Martins!” That's my surname. My staff always call me so. No! I can't be in hell. Jasper calls me so too whenever we're in an official function. For the umpteenth time, I open my mouth to speak and miraculously I manage to let out a whisper.

There is writing on the wall, written with what looks like real blood. A DARK NIGHT SUDDENLY LIT WITH FIRE, A SILENT NIGHT SUDDENLY FILLED WITH SCREAMS, HOW DID YOU ESCAPE THE GRASP OF DEATH, OH YOU LITTLE ONE, WHO SHOULD BE NEXT?

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worried about her feelings? Because sexual harassment is real and if she walks out of here with tears in her eyes and tells the other bartenders that I didn’t even finish it’s going to look bad on all fronts. I don’t need that kind of heat, The Fox Hole is an upstanding place and if people hear that I’m sexually harassing my waitresses and don’t even finish the job, I’ll be investigated and even worse, ridiculed mercilessly by the guys in my circle. A full roast session is not in the cards for me this month, or next. I don’t have the time. Like someone upstairs was listening, my phone rings on the desk and Chantel, bless her heart, keeps sucking like her daddy was Mr. Hoover himself. The va

She whispered, her voice shaky. The ground trembled, and Alexa's face twisted. “What are you doing?” Mira didn't answer her. “Khaos de nekros ekdikos!” She repeated. “No…” Alexa stumbled back. It happened so fast. A crack tore through the sky. The air shimmered violently, and the battlefield fell into silence. Every shadow warrior froze. Alexa’s eyes widened as a dark spiral opened behind her, a glowing red vortex, swirling with demonic light. “No, no… NO!”