Within These Wicked Walls Novels & Stories

It was evening already and gradually, the world would plunge into darkness. The secret underground basement was a labyrinth of narrow corridors and dimly lit rooms, a place where the air hung heavy with the stench of misery. The walls were lined with rusted chains and shackles, ominous reminders of the unspeakable horrors that had taken place within those walls. It is within these walls the Lady from the Coasters carries out her unsightly activities. The walls where the doors can't be opened unless she does. The place where the masks and the coasters originated.

I leave the king’s hand and move forward towards the wall and touch it. There is no crease or something like that from where the walls had split. The bricks are in place. It looks like a real wall. These walls cannot be opened from the inside. So, it means once you enter you cannot get out. The king’s words were right. It is a path toward death. “I am thinking about something, my king but I fear that you might get angry. Am I allowed to speak what is inside my mind?” Walter asks the king with the utmost respect. I look towards him from where I am standing.

Prince Vaugn asked at the door of his room. Veronica looked at me with wide eyes and asked, “the walls?” Having seen me come out in Veronica’s room, Prince Vaugn didn’t need to ask her what she meant. Instead, they both looked at me. I dug my toe into the floor and shrugged. “I guess I can take you through the walls. But that thing might find us there.” Prince Vaugn nodded. “He might find us when we aren’t freeing the dragon, as well.” I got the point. What they were asking was necessary. I really didn’t mind showing her the way. But I didn’t want to bring him into my home. But for her, I would.

Trigger Warnings: Adultery/Infidelity, power imbalance, rough sexual play, choking, spanking, anal play, breeding themes, and explicit language. Bianca The walls of the estate were thick, but not thick enough to drown out the low, rhythmic murmur of my husband's voice coming from the study. He was in there with my sister, Beatrice, discussing the logistics of the new merger, oblivious to the fact that his most trusted asset was currently pushing me against the cold stone wall of the gallery.

Ajay is right on one thing, these men are shameless disrespectful sex maniacs! Averting my gaze from the emotional torture brought about by that scenery, I ricochet my distress around the corners of this black-painted hall. Black-representing the dark sins taking place here. The evil roaming in this whole place. No other colour would have fitted these walls better. The red lanterns on the walls are doing enough justice in illuminating the black-painted hall. Good combination - red and black. Evil and danger. Cold and deep.

Each interaction dripped with malice, a twisted tango between broken souls trapped in their personal hells. As I poured drinks with a macabre precision, I wove a web of deceit, engaging in whispered conversations that dripped with malice. The bar became a theatre of wickedness, a place where secrets were exchanged like cursed trinkets, each word laced with a dark, insidious intent. I reveled in the decadence, embracing the darkness that consumed me, for it was in the depths of despair that I sought my redemption.

Evelynn POV Brick walls scarred with age, steel beams glinting under floodlights, windows glowing amber. Music bled through the walls - low, heavy, thrumming bass. Laughter carried, sharp and raw. Shouts, clatter of glass. A den. A fortress. A kingdom. My wolf stirred restlessly. "Home. Ours."

The runes on the walls were designed to scream sickening green. The further we went, the stronger it became. Death. Decay. Chemical wrongness that had my wolf wanting to run. We stepped into a large room. And I wished we had not. The lab had become a nightmare come to life. Ferals were caged along the walls, some only halfway to being a wolf. Some were screaming. Some could no longer be called wolves. The air was heavy with the stink of dark magic; It clung to my tongue.

He gently turned, allowing his senses to flow forth while furiously wiping the blood from his brow. The fact that they were deep underground, which meant no early morning sunrise and that the cement walls and ceiling were several feet thick, were his first realisations. His next realisation was that there were several charms etched on the walls and thick steel doors that were precisely built to drain the strength of any werewolf stupid enough to become trapped.