Within These Wicked Walls Novels & Stories

He is half dead. The underground cells beneath the council building are cold, carved from stone older than the city itself. Wolves heal quickly, but these walls were built to weaken us, well, them, not me. Silver dust lines the concrete, and chains hang from the ceiling. Old blood stains remain no matter how often the cleaners scrub. It passes a message to every prisoner that step in here. They’ll never leave. The rogue lifts his head, and fear flashes across his face instantly. “Alpha,” one of the guards says quietly.

"Under the clubhouse. It's the only place with iron-reinforced walls." Dominic carried me out of the room. I looked back at the broken balcony doors one last time. The night was dark and empty and The white wolf was gone. But I could still feel the cold spot on my palm where he had touched me. We went downstairs. The living room was wrecked. Furniture was smashed, walls gouged. A few bikers were tending to wounds. Two bodies were being covered with sheets—Iron Howlers. My stomach turned. People had died—For me.

The wolf, let out a laugh, and continued on his way. "I'm not afraid of anything, not even the witches of the vampires, my inner wolf is stronger than all that" The leader stopped in front of some rocks and made some movements for them to turn around "We are here". Sarah felt her heart immediately race, she had absolutely no idea what was behind those walls. "Where in the mansion are we?" "In the dungeons, you must be very careful, because they are now guarded by huge wolves, with sharp claws and disgusting jaws full of teeth."

“And you, wolf, are drunk on the scent.” I take a step forward, jaw tight. “This isn’t an obsession. It’s a warning. I’ve hunted enough to know a predator’s breath when I feel it.” “And yet,” she says, “the wards admit no predator. You know our law. Everyone who dwells within these walls has walked through the gatefire. If they were too tainted, they would have burned before they crossed the threshold. The Damned survive here, yes, but the truly lost do not.” Her words thrum against the scar beneath my collar, the one that still burns when the moon rises. I force the memory down, but it presses back, vivid as fresh blood.

We were no longer outside. I stumbled, catching myself on the arm of a black velvet chair. Around us stretched a vast, lavish lounge bathed in shadow and firelight, every detail dripping in gothic luxury—black marble floors, silver chandeliers, emerald glass glowing faintly in the sconces. The air smelled faintly of smoke and metal. “Where the hell did you take us?” I demanded, heart hammering against my ribs. The Wicked lounged back in a throne of obsidian, the red of his robes spilling over it like blood. “My living room,” he said smoothly. “Sit.”

“that’s fine your majesty, the Winter Wards are here to see you, they have brought the Dark Witch you seek” “Where are they?” “the Throne Room” I hasten my steps and get to the throne room, pushing the door open “ughhh that smell” I hold my nose, the Wards have a woman, who looks absolutely dreadful chained up and her mouth gagged “why does she smell like that?” “she made a pact with a demon, when you do that eventually you begin to smell like the undead, to every action there is always a reaction”

She said with a smile, the white and sharp fangs on her mouth sparkling. The beast paces back and forth in the closed cage. The chains on his front and hind legs create an unsettling sound about the room. The beast rattled the cage, pounding on the walls, the floor, hoping to spring some sort of trapdoor, and come across some secret entrance. Its loud growls and snarls can be heard in the empty room. A room with no doors. No window. A single bed, and during the night, that Wicked Witch appears. From a distance, the voice of a woman could be heard screaming, fighting for her freedom. “Let go of me! No… let go! My daughter, she needs me!” And as she begs for mercy, Bathal roared on his cage.

Chapter 93 – The Black Veil The black blood seeped from the walls like a wound that refused to heal. It pooled on the floor, spreading outward in unnatural patterns that seemed alive, pulsing faintly as if it were breathing. Each droplet shimmered with an eerie darkness, reflecting not light but shadow—a void within a void. The air grew heavier, pressing down on them like a storm cloud refusing to break. Whispers began to echo through the chamber, fragmented sentences that slithered into their minds uninvited.

And from the far shadows of the hall, a voice - the same voice - whispered again. You can’t guard against what’s already inside your walls. The lights flickered. One by one, the flames went out. And the hall plunged into darkness.

I was downgraded to the nanny's room, a place I never thought I would sleep in. No complaints from me, though. I hit the sack early. However, even on that soft bed, nightmares haunted me. I was back in that mental hospital, reliving the daily torment. Those monsters did not care about my screams, just ripped at my clothes. I begged them, told them my family and my fiancée, Liliana, would make them pay. However, fighting back just made them worse, more vicious. They mocked me and said I was living in a fantasy.