Whispering Death Dragon Novels & Stories

Dimitri states. “But according to what my father told me, all the known silver dragons were killed. Everyone was accounted for. How is that possible?” “Were they,” asks Dimitri. “The eyes are easily deceived especially among chaos. I think a silver dragon with the aid of a warlock or witch faked their death. As to who that is remains a mystery. It could be anyone.” “Please tell me you’re joking. I don’t like your theory.”

Bethel frowned for a moment, “Well from a baby really, she would summon cakes from the kitchen and she would summon Lady Persephone’s son’s toys to play with. It was quite amusing really.” Helga’s eyes narrowed, “Seraphina, you are such a mystery.” She shook her head. “What do you mean?” Bethel questioned. “Well if we just consider the facts first, she is a Dragon Dhampir, a Dhampir with a familiar is rare enough yet, to have a Dragon familiar? I know I don’t need to tell you how rare that is,” Bethel nodded at Helga. “She also carries Alexandria’s Genesis, she has the markings for spirit, she-” Helga’s face paled as a thought came to mind.

Jezebel laugh. "You're dying soon, you're not even aware. The Terminator is not daft, being the queen of the underworld is not a piece of cake, she obviously knew about your games, so she planted a poison in you without your own knowledge. I recognize a poisoned person, your eyeballs changed from the original brown to complete black, RIP in advance" Zenith replied, and Jezebel's eyes widened. "What are you talking about!" "You're almost dead! B**ch!" Zenith snapped and removed an hairpin from her hair.

Sera bent low, pressing her forehead to his. “I can’t lose you,” she whispered, her tears dripping onto his bloodstained skin. Her chest burned, the fracture clawing for release. The dragon’s voice echoed again, relentless. “Choose.” Her hands trembled. Her heart split, She drew in one ragged, broken breath, just as the cavern roared, shaking violently. The dragon reared back, its body splintering with light, its eyes flashing wide. From the shadows behind it, something darker than flame, colder than void, surged forward.

The herbs were rejecting, and that could mean only one thing. This man was poisoned by Whisperbloom. The name sounds harmless, but the poison itself is anything but. It was a rare poison that was nearly always fatal, and nearly impossible to detect. Unless you were me of course. Well, not exactly. There was only one way to clearly detect it, and that was that when a victim of Whisperbloom poison smelled or came in contact with an herb called Silkgaze said victim would become incapacitated. Silkgaze was one of the main ingredients to Whisperbloom antidotes, but it came with its own set of side effects. His collapse in front of my cottage suddenly made sense.

He grinned. Before anyone could contemplate what was about to happen, a deep roar shook the earth. Sending all of them backwards. Slamming them into trees. A black giant dragon suddenly and slowly emerged from the other side of the forest. Approaching the scene stealthily. Its rough skin was dark as obsidian and long claws which could cut through steel. Its eyes burn brightly like hot coals and an earth shattering roar left its mouth, its razor sharp talons which could tear through anything. The sight of the dragon sent tremors through the men and they retreat carefully.

He clutched his head, his body buckling as if struck by a physical blow. The static-filled memories of our time together—the laughter, the shared secrets, the quiet moments of trust—were crashing against the rigid walls of his new programming. He looked at me, his gaze oscillating between lethal detachment and raw, unadulterated fear. ​"I... I can't," he groaned, his eyes glazing over as his internal systems fought for control. ​But we weren't alone. ​From the treeline, a soft, rhythmic clapping sound echoed through the clearing. Rose emerged, flanked by four of her elite mercenaries.

A soft hiss was heard. And with that, the humidifier was turned up to its maximum spray volume. Thick, white mist instantly billowed out from the machine, filling up the entire dining room within seconds. This was a poisonous mist mixed with high-purity liquid silver. It wasn't life-threatening to humans at all, since it was only presented as a harmless vapor that might choke them slightly. However, it was like deadly poison to these werewolves. I immediately heard screams from all around me. The members of the pack, who had still been acting arrogantly with me earlier, were now all rolling on the ground in pain as they clutched their faces.

All subjects talking about the twilight zone and the abyss only talk about how dangerous the miasma is and how no one knows what's really in the abyss, there was none of the topic talking about what resides in the miasma and severe lack of information on what the whispers were. Phil had a bright idea, just like his predecessor his grandfather did, he would catalog his journey and write the things he had seen. Phil got a pencil and paper as he wrote the things he had experienced last night. Phil described how the miasma was not terrifying for him but rather welcoming when he first saw it. He wrote about how the whispers cheered him on and motivated him to go deeper but when he decided to exit

There are thousands of them. Thypon swings his staff around, which emits a beam of flame, setting everything it touches on fire. The people scream and yell for everyone to run. The Minotaur stampede toward them, wielding their axes. The ground trembles again, but this time it’s not from Thypon but Deathworms. They fly half a dozen metres into the air before disappearing into the ground, leaving large holes in the ground. Dragons fly high in the sky, screeching.