Wraith Demon Novels & Stories

One faction is to serve the Palace as general servants while the other factions are to serve members of the Imperial Family. Blue is the colour scheme for the servants belonging to the faction of the Frost Palace, in short these servants directly serve the Third Prince Jin Huan. As for the others, the general servants are clad colours of dark maroon. As for the Emperor, the faction of servants appointed are naturally larger, they are clad in black. The faction which serves the emperor, the colour black truly makes them look more imposing. These people their positions may be that of a servant but their worth is comparable to those revered generals or martial arts masters.

Edzar's father. Ariesta Collison is a beautiful princess with a unique face. It stands at 170cm, the figure most women dream of, weighing just 48kg this month due to post-traumatic stress. Her exotic yellow skin has become even more pale since he's been living like a vampire for months. Sunscreen. It still hums from its thick lips.

Gretchen Wraith, the most feared witch in the supernatural realm watched the fight between Lucian and his father with a malicious glint on her face. The dark cauldron bubbled with a popping sound now and then, letting out dark smokes which swirled around her. She appeared more vicious than ever. The attack on the fire demon was unexpected. The knowledge of a Qistina being already mated to Lucian did not bode well for her. The reason she couldn’t find Lucian all this time became clear.

Indie let my hand go and let her demon form out, showing off that she was a concubus. There were some scattered applause. I let my demon form out too. All of it. “I am Morrigan, Vasilia of the demons.” I stated while my human form shifted.

“Did you hear that?” Torren’s daggers were already in his hands, his eyes darting to the shadows. “Yeah. And it’s not the wind.” The whispers grew louder, a chorus of voices speaking in a tongue long forgotten. From the cavern’s depths, shapes began to emerge—ethereal, translucent figures, their forms flickering like dying flames. Their eyes were hollow sockets, their mouths open in silent screams. “Wraiths,” Elara breathed, her voice trembling. “Spirits bound to the prophecy. They’re drawn to the fragments.”

"Come, halfling. We have a guest." Scowling she snapped, "Go to hell, Vincent." Growling he stalked across the cell. Grabbing her roughly by the chains he dragged her towards the door. Victoria bit back a cry of pain as he continued to pull her roughly through the dungeon and up several flights of stairs. Entering a great room he tossed her to the floor. "As promised." Shoving the hair out of her eyes with her shoulder Victoria glanced up wide eyed. Standing above her was a demon. His skin was pale, nearly white, and his long hair was jet black, hanging to his waist. Two black horns twisted from the sides of his head and upward.

Jake Two hours later, Jake headed back to the basement. Warren’s knuckles were coated in blood and all Devon did was laugh at the detective. Both men turned to look at him when he opened the door and he grinned. “Do you know who I am?” “Should I?” Devon asked with a sneer. “Jake Savage,” he said with a smirk. “But my friends call me Wrath.” Devon’s eyes widened. “You’re Wrath?” “You took my sister and tried to have me killed in prison.”

The thing in the shadows screamed. It wasn’t a sound meant for ears—it was bone grinding on stone, glass breaking inside Avery’s skull. They clutched their head, staggering back as the Veil itself shivered. A claw pushed through the cracked air, long and jagged, dripping black smoke. Then another. The beast’s head followed, stretching from nothing, stitched from shadow and teeth. Avery froze. “What—what is that?” “A Wraith,” the reaper said, voice like iron. They spun their scythe into both hands. “Predators. Feed on the ones you let slip.”

Its body was wrapped in black robes, face hidden beneath a cracked porcelain mask with runes etched into its surface. I froze. Another emerged from behind it. And another. There were four in total. Wraiths. Bound spirits twisted by dark magic. Bryan stepped in front of me. “Stay behind me,” he muttered, his voice suddenly colder than the air itself. One of the wraiths raised its hand, and the fog hissed, curling upward like smoke from a fire. The runes on its mask glowed a deep crimson. “Don’t let them chant,” Bryan growled.

As soon as the heartbeat sound ebbed, I felt a bit more energised, the pain lessened. But that lasted only for a moment, as in the next moment, a heartbeat drummed again through the doors and the wraith opened the eyes again. As the beating sound on the doors increased, a new bout of energy and my ichor gushed from my right hand. The gatekeeping wraith sounded the word “Demonium” and another molten, ember vein carved on the doors, linked with handprint carving on the righthand side, where my ichor still dripped from my right palm. As my ichor emitted through the vein, a new rune, “Demonium”, appeared on the right-hand side of the wraith.