Twisted Hearts
  • Reads 667
  • Votes 18
  • Parts 13
  • Time 1h 15m
  • Reads 667
  • Votes 18
  • Parts 13
  • Time 1h 15m
Ongoing, First published May 24, 2013
I hated pretty much anything mythical ever since my parents were slaughtered, by them in front of me, when I was just eleven years of age. Now I'm seventeen and have a slight lust for bloodshed of mythical beings such as vampires, werewolves, the Faye, you name it. So I became a hunter/assassin taking any paying job that came my way to kill the things that were suppose to keep you innocent as a child, but instead completely robbed me of it. Until I fall hard......
  
  *Contents graphic fight scenes*
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My dream continued the one I'd been having for the past couple of nights. I ran, gasping for breath, through the familiar woods from a dark figure behind me. The faster I tried to run, the slower I seemed to go, until it was like I was running in place. I knew I needed to run. I was terrified of what the figure would do when he caught me. "Mara Leigh," a deep, smooth voice called. It was almost hypnotic. That was new. The figure had never spoke before now. I ran as fast as I could go, eyes searching the forest floor for a big stick or something that I could use to defend myself. "Mara Leigh!" the voice came again, this time more insistent. The forest slowly started to fade and I started to awake to someone shaking my shoulders. "Beau?" I mumbled, turning my head to the side. What's Beau doing in my room this time of night? Why is he shaking me? "Do not call me that name." My eyes flew open as I jumped at the voice from my dream. A face was right in front of mine, and just like the voice, it wasn't Beau. Before I could form a scream, a hand covered my mouth. I tried to bite it but I couldn't get my mouth to open. He's too strong. I started to use my whole body to try to get away, but he crawled on top of me, holding me down. I pulled the hidden knife out from under my pillow and slashed as hard as I could at him, but he just grabbed my wrist and squeezed it until the pain made me drop the knife. Then he grabbed both my hands in one of his and held them over my head. He held me down while I struggled. I grunted and moved and tried to kick and scream, but I only wore myself out. Exhausted, I stopped thrashing and let the tears flow freely down my cheeks. I didn't know what to do, so I just tried to prepare myself for whatever was coming.
The Boy Who Loved The Werewolf by GayShipQueen
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First off, it's all those damn witches fault. I knew I shouldn't have killed their mother, but its not like I had a choice! It is-or was-my job to slay, back in 1692. Yea, that long ago. But we were living in a primitive world and the word "witch" got to anyone's ears, and all hell would break loose. Those damn women, three girls all of the marrying age at the time, their mother was accused of witchcraft. It was my job to dispose of the witches. I was the executioner after all, but I was supposed to do it as if it were an accident. The night I went after the girls mother, they were home and watched me do it. Crying, sobbing, screaming at me to stop. But I couldn't, I wasn't allowed. At the end I felt something happening to me, I was getting dizzy and everything was hazy. I heard the three girls speaking-no, cursing me in unison. "You have slain our mother, an innocent women. She had not been dabbling in witchery, she only kept our secret. For having killed our mother, we curse you and your family to roam the world as immortals. Never growing old after the age of twenty one and turning into the beasts you are at the age sixteen. Every night when the moon rises, you and your family shall turn into giant beasts. Beasts bigger than bears but in the body of a wolf. Each night you will kill and you must live with the guilt of the murders you are capable of. Are you satisfied with the blood you've shed tonight?!" Those words are burned into my skull, never leaving. The witches were hanged a few days later, on the night of a full moon. That's when my curse began. Present day, it's easier to hide nowadays from the community. Nobody is looking for me, trying to hunt me down and kill me. At least, not that I know of. But anyways, my name is Fiona Mansfield. I was only seventeen years old when I was an executioner in the Salem Witch Trials. Three witches cast a spell on my family and me, that was 322 years ago. I am 339 now and my family and I are werewolves.
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Slide 1 of 10
Creatures Of The Wilderness ||BOOK 1||COMPLETED|| cover
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Verge of Insanity cover
Hope Is all I Need cover
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Taken cover
My Student: My Mate cover
Broken Mate cover
The Boy Who Loved The Werewolf cover

Creatures Of The Wilderness ||BOOK 1||COMPLETED||

22 parts Complete

There's something in me.... fangs pointed for tearing gashes..... a red tongue for raw meat..... and a hot lapping for blood. "What's happening to me? " Eyes watery looking at him. " Trust me. Nothings going to happen to you......... " *** There's something I'm made of.... razor sharp fangs pointed ready to sink into your skin..... and the desire for your warm ruby red crimson....... I have no mercy........ so run and keep running into the dark, cold night. " I didn't expected you'll found out about me. So he did something to you, " he said chuckling. "But I wonder how it taste, it wouldn't kill me to try." "Wait, what are you going to do with me? " I asked backing away. " Nothing just remain calm. " he said coming towards me. A decision between the two rival. Which will change my life forever... So read up on, 'CREATURES OF THE WILDERNESS' to find out more ... "Don't worry, you'll enjoy my company, " he said smirking.