Within These Wicked Walls Novels & Stories

“In. Deeper.” The academy was a warren. I knew its official passages. But a prince obsessed with efficiency and unseen vectors knows more. I knew the spaces between walls, the old, blocked-up servant runs, the hidden conduits for steam and silence. My father’s men would search for a fugitive fleeing into the woods. They would not look for a wounded rat burrowing deeper into the walls of the very structure they occupied.

If he agreed, things were truly fucked. The other council wolves watched from their tents. Cowards, all of them. They wanted whispers and poisons and spies. I wanted war. But I would be smart. Patient. Let the Alpha bitch have her little speeches and her dancing wolves and her soft-spoken council with their shiny new jobs. Let her think she was safe. Let her rest easy behind her pretty little walls. Because the thing about walls? They kept monsters out. Until the monsters became the cracks themselves.

Empty. Starving. Wrong. One of them opened its mouth. Its lips split too wide, stretching farther than any human mouth should, until the skin at the corners cracked. Another began forcing itself into the burrow headfirst, limbs bending with sickening pops as though its bones were made to crawl through graves and tight, buried places. The dirt walls trembled. Taffy whimpered and dragged Selene closer, pressing the unconscious woman against her as if her thin body could shield them both. Her own breathing grew sharp and ragged. There was no room. No escape. Only darkness, the smell of decay, and those things squeezing their way inside.

Please? - They were gods. “Aren't all gods the same? Everyone on the island worships Russan and his father. "Sodom, but not like you." "How could that be?" "One day, baby, you'll find out." - But not today? "No, not today." They went out into the big square on the hill. The big buildings are lined up. They were all wide enough to look stocky despite being ten times the height of a human. The walls are strangely carved. Each large block of stone is engraved with locking wheels. Metal pipes ran through the bricks in and out, like huge swarms of maggots emerging from the ground and coiling back. The walls have turned black from soot and previously had sewage leaking from the pipes, leaving larg

“M-My lady, are you sure that what happened to your room was not on purpose?” Gukasho, who was munching the salmon sandwich tiptoed and leaned towards her. He covered his mouth that doubled the size of his fist-like eyes and whispered towards Maleficent, who was fidgeting while watching her father walked around the room. Debris was scattered on the tiled floor. The crumpled furniture laid like broken toys smashed by a child’s tantrum. The wallpapers were torn as if a werewolf visited her overnight – though she did not know if werewolves existed in the Ambivalent Dormitory.

I twisted around, peering at the walls, which were blurry like wet paint that had bled…and were closing in. I gripped Mischief, as I yelled up at the ceiling, “That’s it, Spooks, enough with the cheap tricks.” The walls only wavered closer, as a joyful pop ballad burst from the floor. Mischief jumped, and his nose scrunched in disdain. “On my wings, are we to be driven to insanity by—” “Robbie Williams serenading us with “Angels”?” My ears ached at the loudness. Mischief attempted to muffle the song by wrapping his wings more closely around my head. “Who knew that this house had such a sadistic sense of humor?”

My knees and body slammed into the dirt before my head connected with another exposed root. Pain exploded through my skull. I sat up quickly, but the world immediately began spinning like I was on some carnival ride. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping it would stop. It didn't. I opened them just in time to see two blurry, dark bodies moving closer. They were growling. Mocking me. Like crazed hyenas. But these weren't hyenas. They were something far more dangerous. Far more vicious. These weren't creatures you'd find in a zoo, separated from you by thick glass and reinforced enclosures.

Every few seconds I looked toward the narrow hallway outside the bars again, studying the guards, counting footsteps, trying to figure out if there was even the smallest chance of escape. It was stupid. Completely stupid. This was Blood Carticons. A prison filled with vampires, cursed creatures, and enough dark magic to make my skin crawl every time the walls shook. I barely had enough strength to stand properly after everything they had done to me, and somehow my brain still thought, hey Zara, maybe sprinting through a vampire prison sounds like a fantastic fucking idea. “Your plan is terrible,” the witch said flatly from the other side of the wall. I rolled my eyes instantly. “Wow. Thanks.

The wickedness of it all just makes my body respond all the more. On the bed, Calder sucks in a breath. I slump against the wall, no longer able to watch and hold myself upright at the same time. I increase the speed and pressure of the hand between my legs. I'm no longer concerned about hiding the heavy sound of my breathing. I'm too far gone to care. I want him. Fuck it, I want him. I don't care if he's a selfish jerk. I still want him. I want him to throw me up against the wall and ram his fingers inside of me. I want him to make me scream.