White Shadow Nasty Stories Novels & Stories

“IT’S JUST I HAD a different book in mind when ink spilled on this one, plus what’s left to do in a finished book?” They, of course, ignored me Completely probably deciding if I would not explain, they were just going to proceed. One of the three waved their hand above the inky darkness we were standing on, and instantly a book on a pedestal was in front of them on the floor. It showed off my title, ‘1001 Dark Tales’. I instantly held my breath, hoping they didn’t realize what that meant. But if they had, they said nothing. Instead, they just started flipping through the pages of the book, looking for which store to choose.

Cassandra winced, tying off the thread before looking up at Aubrey. Her face was pale, and there was a shadow in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "The Black Shadow Forest is the darkest secret in this entire region, Aubrey," Cassandra said, her voice barely a whisper. "It’s a place where the sun never really reaches the ground. Everything you’ve never seen in your life... things that shouldn't exist, they lie there. It’s the home of the rogues and the exiled wolves. The ones who were too violent or too broken for any pack to keep."

An article from the most influential gossip portal had just run a headline in bold capital letters: MARRIAGE FOR MONEY: YOUNG WOMAN SELLS HERSELF TO UNSTABLE BLACKWOOD HEIR. Claire swallowed, her mouth tasting bitter. She swiped through her phone screen, reading line after line of text crafted to destroy her life. There were photos of her from a year earlier, when she had worked part-time as a barista at a small coffee shop. The pictures had been taken without her knowledge, highlighting her tired, sweaty appearance. They were paired with a photo of her wearing a jade necklace worth millions of dollars. The narrative below was vicious, painting Claire as a poor, ambitious girl willing to do

female—a silver prize with the mark of the Priestess. Three shadows emerge from the brush on the far side of the clearing. They are ragged, scarred wolves with eyes the color of stagnant water. Silas leads them, his muzzle grey with age and malice. He doesn't see me in the shadows; he only sees the silver wolf standing over a fresh kill. “A stray,” Silas’s psychic rasp echoes through the clearing, oily and invasive. “A beautiful, unranked stray with a feast to share. Move aside, little moon, and maybe we’ll let you keep a bone.”

Any act of kindness out here was worth acknowledging. Soon enough, they started to talk. Stories, some funny, others dark. One spoke of a creature that prowled these woods, an ancient spirit that hunted lonely travellers and fed on their voices. Another swore that he once saw a woman in white walking just beyond the trees, her eyes hollow, her fingers covered in blood. The rider shivered and moved closer to me. But I didn’t move. I only listened, watched, and tried to determine whether these stories were meant to entertain us or warn us.

The exhaustion from my emotions dragged me away into the darkness easily. I closed my heavy eyes as my subconscious took over. The dark abyss appeared around me. Pure darkness with no escape. I wasn't falling, instead standing on the water but never being wet. I heard the ticking of the clock. Tick, tick, tick. Panic was rising. I had no idea what the ticking was or where it was coming from, but something deep inside me knew it was not good. I felt like it signaled the end. But the end of what was unclear.

And as always in the shapeshifting world, he found something stranger still. A raven appeared out of nowhere next to him, staring directly into his eyes for a second before diving down toward the ground, as if asking him to follow. Dean had no clue what he was supposed to do, but he willed himself to follow the bird. Unexpectedly, he started gliding after the bird. It led him through the trees and the forest for a while. Dean found that he had no problem navigating through the obstacles as the bird did. They flew past what had to be the most beautiful stream he had ever seen in his entire life. The water flowed gently out of the mouth of a werewolf’s stone sculpture carved into the side of a

He really couldn't get over what was happening to him. Alex turned to Liam. It seemed that his partner for the night had reached the limit of his courage. "Liam, don't panic. I'm going to switch on my torch," Alex whispered as his high-powered flashlight lit up the room. As the light flickered on, what they saw left them speechless. In front of them were horrible shadows that looked like human figures, but without faces. The sound of hissing and eerie laughter filled the room. "Are those things, ghosts? But why I feel nothing! It's not like the ghosts I'm used to seeing?" Alex continued to watch the creature in front of him and Liam.

Finally, she found the one she was looking for. Layla managed to grab the book and add it to her stack in her arms when her eyes caught sight of something. A book stood out among the rest. It was bound with dark brown leather and had brandished designs on the spine. The title read - Malleus Vampiro: A Treatise on Vampires. Placing her other books on the floor, Layla pulled the leather-bound book from its home amongst the others and opened it. As her eyes skimmed the pages, she caught a couple of words; SHADOW STALKERS, BLOODSUCKER, PHANTOMS.

The look on his face made Camila shiver and she fell to the ground as she tried to step back. “The big bad wolf! I was wondering where the stench was coming from,” one of them said and laughed. “Fuck off, Pale ass bitch!” “Hey easy now! Don't scare her to death. Let’s talk to her first, maybe she’ll give it to us willingly,” said the one with pale skin before the rest burst into a roar of laughter. He was the only one of the men who looked out of place. He had a pale complexion and chiseled features while the others looked like local Latinos. He stood there shirtless with his pale chest crawling with tattoos. A huge tattoo depicting three skulls across his chest was the most prominent.