Dark Fantasy ☠



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Trust Levels: What are they and how do they work



Series: Pangea
Title: Approaching Darkness
Link: Book 1
Description: Long before humans inhabited Earth, there lived 3 dominant species. Enjaelian’s, Dximonian’s, and Pangian’s.

Enjaelian’s and Dximonian’s were constantly fighting with each other. Their war brought the planet to the brink of destruction.

The Pangean’s, a species that practiced restraint, pleaded with the others to stop going down the path they were on, a path that would doom the world.

To no avail, the Pangean’s devised a spell, at the cost of their lives, they banished the Enjaelian’s and Dximonian’s to two separate prison dimensions.

With all three species gone from Earth, it gave the humans the chance to evolve into what we are today.

Not all is as we think. Their prison’s are failing, one by one, they are slowly escaping.

After the death of his roommate, Mason is on the run, trying survive while being hunted by the Dximonian’s that have broken free, for he is the key to their race’s freedom.



It is our choices that define us as sinners or saints.

When Abel Magia is attacked by an unknown assassin in the city of Letterdam a saviour comes and takes him on an enthralling journey on the continent of Emirulore.

Meanwhile his elder brother Cain who had killed his parents some fifteen years earlier is looking for the keys that unlocks the Beasts box. He might get more than he bargained for.

Mari is horrified when her child goes missing and she decides to find her daughter Ella on her own.

Myrich is pure evil and dreams of ruling Talamh. He cements the foundation. In an evil way.

Welcome to Talamh home the of damned



Hi Fellow Writers, I’m new to the group, so bear with me.

Title: La Lechuza: A Short Story
Description: Oscar is hunting rabbits one night, when he encounters a lechuza, a witch that can transform into an owl. He is not without his tricks, as he entraps the witch to do his bidding. Will he use magic to solve his problems, or will he feel compassion for it and let the lechuza go?
Writer Comments: For this freebie, I decided to do a short read, shorter than what I normally produce. Are there jumps in the story that are abrupt? Does the ending satisfy you? Also, is this the right genre for this story? I consider it magical realism/speculative fiction. Do links annoy you or do you prefer the story text? I already posted it, but am not opposed to revising it.

"La Lechuza: A Short Story"

When his gun jammed a second time, Oscar knew it was time to go home. It was well past midnight on a lonely Saturday night, which made the hunt more challenging, but the moon was full, and there were jackrabbits bounding everywhere. One even had the nerve to run over his heavy boot. He tried to stomp it, kicking his left leg, hard, and falling on some thorny branches.

“Damn it!” he shouted on impact which raised errant hoots from a distance. He got up grateful no one witnessed his failure.

That night, Oscar trudged through the citrus orchard of Yuma, Arizona. It was a warm evening, too warm, but it was peaceful, and he needed solitude. This particular orchard was a testing facility for the University of Arizona. It was guarded by his childhood friend Fidel. In fact, he had filled out the job application for him in English, because unlike many of his friends, Oscar had gotten his associates degree in business and could write well, and like many of his friends, Fidel was drinking on the weekend. The two men had an agreement, and if he shared his kills and kept an eye on the orchard while Fidel was carousing, Fidel didn’t care what Oscar did as long as he didn’t pluck the oranges.

Oscar wasn’t stupid enough to pick those oranges, yet he liked to go there since the orchard wasn’t as frequented, and more animals made their homes there.

In the distance, he saw his white truck, bright with the moon’s rays. It was practically new, a couple of years old, yet he had been able to buy it due to being promoted eight months ago to foreman in a maquila across the border. The owner, Señor Robles was a prankster and called the company Chonies Inc., a subsidiary of Hanes. While most of his friends were struggling in the lettuce fields and orange groves or some dead-end job, he had a cushy desk job. His workers loved him because he managed to get them breaks, even bathroom breaks without them being docked pay. He also gave them days off and managed to get them small raises, equal for both men and women.

At 35, Oscar was tall and lean, almost five foot seven, with thick black curly hair and olive colored skin. He looked like a popular movie star, Johnny Jackson, from the U.S. and most of the women at Chonies Inc. swooned over him. They often brought him food to eat, which he tasted complimenting every cook and being fair to taste all the dishes, so no one would get her feelings hurt. Still, he only had eyes for his wife Diana, a short muscular woman with rare curly red hair. She was picosa , a feisty woman who was constantly chasing after him, even though she was four months pregnant. That is where the problems started, when she first got pregnant.

First, as if he were cursed, she started accusing him of cheating calling him a perro and horny bastard. Later he would find out it was the hormones, and he tolerated these insults, but after the third month of her pregnancy and non-stop verbal assaults, something unusual happened. Oscar simply could not get it up anymore, which made her even more suspicious that he was sleeping with someone else.

He wasn’t sure what had caused the decline in his virility, but whether he was working hard in the shower, or she was expertly handling him, there wasn’t so much as a quiver. Oscar wasn’t about to tell his friends about his troubles, and he was overly embarrassed to talk to his doctor. At one point he considered going to see the local curandera for some homemade remedies, but tongues would wag if they saw him visiting her dirty trailer. Besides, that was close to witchcraft, and witchcraft was a sin.

He sighed heavily and let the warm night air surround him, as he closed his eyes. Oscar was finally alone, away from his four children, and her. The distant hoot didn’t startle him this time, What were so many owls doing in the grove? He took one last look at the truck and refused to go home without a kill. He was no impotent loser, by God! Oscar tried to unjam the gun one last time and heard a satisfying click.

As he loaded a bullet in his trusty stiff .22, a loud shriek made him lose his nerve. He almost fired, as a large bird flew close to his head. It was an enormous lechuza , unusually dark, almost black, and as it flew by, he felt an odd coldness. Instinctively, Oscar crossed himself and nearly ran but he had a hankering for rabbit stew. Besides, his wife had such terrible morning sickness that she could not clean the rabbits, which would give him half a day outdoors without incessant nagging.

He tensed his body and went deeper into the grove with resolve. His muscle tensed as he saw a fat rabbit in the distance. He aimed and fired, but to his horror, the gun jammed again.

“Just stop,” he said, “You’re lucky you didn’t blow your damned hand off.”

Oscar shined a flashlight at it and analyzed the animal. The bulge under her belly was unmistakable. He cursed and gave up. Oscar wiped the sweat off his brow with the red kerchief from last Christmas, a fine gift from her. “What am I going to do?” He looked up saying a prayer to God and asked for the impossible. Just then, he noticed the plump owl overhead. It, too, appeared to be pregnant.

He wasn’t sure why he did it, but he began to say the Our Father backwards. It was a trick his mother had taught him years ago, to protect him from witches. He said the prayer with true faith three times. He waited, and nothing happened, but a few seconds later, there was a frightening crash, as something heavy fell to the ground.

Oscar almost had a heart attack, but he was too young for that. He poised the gun and aimed it at the naked figure. Now what, you idiot? he thought.

He looked around, but no one was near the grove. Oscar inched closer to the naked woman. She was face down, obese with expansive buttocks. The rest of her was covered with long white hair. She stirred, and Oscar had to use his strength not to run away like a cobarde .

A loud groan made him speak, “I have you in my power, witch!”

The woman sat up clumsily and began to plead, “Let me go, please.”

He was expecting the begging but not the English with a Michoacán accent. He was anticipating pathetic pleas, but what he wasn’t ready for was the image of the expansive ■■■■ between her legs. Oscar looked away quickly and realized the woman’s chest was flat.

Oscar gasped, “What?”

“Please,” said the gruff voice, “Let me go! I have grandchildren, here, in the U.S. I was just visiting. Please!”

The face was unmistakably male, and Oscar was surprised at how large the balding man was; the viejo was well over 250 pounds. He was supernaturally white almost translucent, and Oscar wondered if that was because of the magic. His face looked very much like the 5 o’clock Anglo anchorman with a straight nose.

“Are you white?”

“No! I am like you, just a family man. Please, let me go.”

Oscar waited for the right moment. After a few more minutes of supplications, the stranger finally said, “I’ll grant you whatever you want.”

Unlike his mother, Oscar was not as well versed in lore. She had taught him the prayer and when to say it right below a lechuza, but not how to let a trapped witch go because if he did find one as a child, he was supposed to fetch his father.

“Then what?” he asked.

“You let me go,” whimpered the man beginning to cry.

“Hmmm,” he said, “Anything I ask?”

“Riches, women!” said the corpulent man crying in earnest now. -Por favor- he persuaded, “They can’t know you trapped me! I’ll be killed.”

Oscar poised his gun and looked around. There was no one else there.

“Very well, then,” in a small voice, as the witch strained and leaned in, Oscar explained his problem.

The man paused for a few moments, then began to laugh. His belly jiggled in a disgusting display.

Oscar was taken aback, “Why are you laughing at me?”

It cackled loudly and beckoned him to come forward, but Oscar would not be moved. In the recesses of his memory he remembered something else his mother taught him Witches are not to be trusted. Even when they grant wishes, they always cause trouble.

The witch grew frightened again, “I am so sorry. I laugh when I am nervous.”

But Oscar knew the witch was lying. He had laughed at his manhood. He thought about the situation and made a decision. Oscar said the Our Father three times, correctly.

The witch gasped and without a word transformed back into an owl. At first, his head began to shrink; then, Oscar watched mesmerized as thick hair emerged all over its ugly skin, becoming feathers. The man was folding in on itself until he became the size of the owl. The feathers poked and smoothed out. Oscar recalled how once he had seen a movie about a wolf man. In it when the man transformed, the shift had lasted five minutes. This change happened so rapidly, he doubted the owl had ever been a man.

Slow and lethargic it began to fly as though it were learning how to do so for the first time. It turned away from Oscar going south towards Mexico.

That gave Oscar enough time to aim. Now, hitting a moving target was tricky, which made hunting rabbits fun. But this creature was so large, he aimed ahead in the flight’s path with ample time. He also knew God was on his side when the gun finally fired. The sound filled the night scattering rabbits and other small creatures everywhere.

He didn’t miss. Oscar froze, waiting to see if it would turn back into a man, but an owl it would remain.

He got close to it and kicked it with his foot. The bullet nearly blew the lechuza’s head clean off. Oscar finally got a kill.

“You shouldn’t have laughed at me asshole.” He looked around and sought more owls, but he was alone again. For a moment, he thought about taking the lechuza and eating it to see if it would cure him, or stuffing it to brag to his friends, but that would be foolish.

Oscar whistled a happy tune, as he walked to his truck, and he smiled wide as he realized something was working downstairs again. He would have something to share with his wife after all.

Thank you!

Jesú Estrada



The continent of Hrimmhail. To the north lies the dwarven snow-covered wasteland, dotted with tribal humans, all vying for technology from the grand fortress. Further south, beyond the world’s largest mountain range, lies the Great Field, a beautiful open plain where the human kingdoms reside.

Loth Vettrsson, a caravan master, wanders the continent, selling trade items and taking contracts, hoping to make an odd profit. Though he will discover just how far men are willing to go for a few silver, as he seeks to make his way in the world as a merchant. Although he is always moving, his past will catch up to him.

That, he cannot escape.


Science Fantasy || Action || Romance

The last thing you’d imagine Earth’s Savior having is an identity crisis, let alone in the middle of an interstellar war, but for Avalyn Concerto she begs to differ.

Ever since the last battle against Primordial—Earth’s immortal alien foe—Ava has been living in a constant nightmare. For she will never forget. No matter how many times the UFE tells her to move on, to let it go, she will always remember the battle like it was yesterday.

Ava will never forget how heavy the sword felt in her palm and how her abilities took over. She’ll never forget the moment she killed her best friend—the moment before she lost control.

Out of desperation, Ava ventures off into the wastelands of the forgotten cities and the demon-infested world in search of her missing birth record. And she will do whatever it takes to find it—to fix herself—even if that means breaking the laws and committing treasonous acts.

But once Ava is caught, she quickly finds out it will take more than thievery and violence to stitch herself back together. It will require dark magic. A pair of alien princes. A pompous man whose hair is as white as snow. A blue god’s threat. And the perfect stage set for secrets to unfold.

Link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/61116288-ipseity-1-✓



Abel Magia is making his way to Erigal to meet the Oracle.
Cain Magia has to help Abbasi win Sumaria but first he must attend a meeting of the Ordo Ob Chao
Mari aims to stay alive in N’Karath but with Umarah things can be unpredictable.
Hans Myrich attempts to take over Breton suffer at set back.
Nikita discovers something amazing.
Dummah has aspiration of winding up Abel.

This is the second book in the A TALE OF LOVE AND HATE saga as you might have gathered it is a dark tale and there is darkness in this tale. There are many more revelations.

This will be updated fortnightly for your pleasure.

The first three chapters are out now.

Welcome to Talamh; Home of the damned.



Tournament of Thieves

Open Novella Contest 2019 entry, and a Round 1 qualifier.

For a thousand years, the outside world of the Nine Worlds meant nothing to the Norse trickster god, Loki, and his devoted wife, Sigyn. The little world inside the cavern in which Loki was imprisoned was everything. Neither of them seemed to care anymore about what happened outside the cave.

But when Thor, god of thunder, appears with a proposition for Loki, they are thrust back into the real world. Loki is tasked with tracking down the thief of Freya’s necklace, Brisingamen. No one else knows where the thief could be hiding; Odin cannot even find him from his throne. And since whoever holds Brisingamen holds violent sway over Freya, the Aesir send their old problem-solver – and problem-causer – to find their new enemy. It takes a thief to catch a thief, right?

Loki’s quest won’t be as easy as he believes, for the thief inhabits one of the most powerful and magic-ridden places in the Nine Worlds.

But as Loki embarks on his quest, he realizes that this is not just his chance to redeem himself to the Aesir… it is also his chance to redeem himself to his wife. For once, he’s not just fighting for himself.

He’s fighting for his relationship.





This is the life of Nesryn, sixth daughter of the Faxum’s kin, both Cold and Beast, female of the Mountains.

This story isn’t about love.
It’s about blood dying the snow,
The whiteness of Winter,
The solitude of broken hearts,
And the tearing from inside out.
But it’s also about orange moments,
Lavender scents,
The blooming of tulips,
And the flowing of ice cold water cleaning fresh wounds.
The Blues came to take the Redness away.

They say that at the beginning of it all, there were three Moons -the Blood, the Pure and the Wild-. By himself, the Sun had created humans, a weak race that filled his land. Once mated to the Blood, they gave life the Colds, who fed on blood to live; they erased most humans, so the Sun banished them from his sight, leaving them only to walk when their Moon is up. After her, he mated the Pure, she gave him a breed like no other, bound to be human on his watch, and Beast under hers; werewolves, werebears, werefoxes and others, half human and half Beast.

While the Sun was busy mating with his Moons, the third one, the Wild, watched from afar. She had fallen for the Sun before all her sisters mated him, but he didn’t even spare her a glance. Under the influence of envy, the Wild realized she needed something better to call the Suns attention, so she mated the Night. The ruthless and savage Night, he raped and mended the Wild to his wants and needs, all under the Suns watch who couldn’t care less about her.

Broken as she was, the Wild took her own life, finding her long awaited peace in the arms of Death. But not before giving the Night many breeds, born from their ruthless and savage ways. This the Sun noticed, so he ordered his own to fight for him, but they couldn’t, most of them died during those years. That’s why the Colds live in the deep South were the winter never ends, while the Beasts live near the Sea or over the Mountains with humans. That’s the only way they can survive, away from the sons of Night and Wild.




Two Sisters, same Mother, different Father. Two drops of the same fountain, yet one carried Death and the other carried Life.

From sin made, sinful will remain.

She’s Cleo, a Death Witch whose Wicca took over long ago. Then there’s Ruby, a Forest Witch who fell victim of her sister’s hunger.

How far are they willing to go to meet again?

Mates, enemies, allies, victims and Beasts. From weres, vampires and witches comes a story about forgiveness, hatred, envy, love, friendship and family.

Let the Hunt begin.


Link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/179326540-genocide-dogma

Tierra: a world where four races exist amongst one another. To the west lie the devils, the east lie the humans, the north lie the angels, and the south lie the changelings. Within this world, none have more strained relations than that of the angels and the devils. A hybrid between them…unthinkable

Enter Astra Rose-Im, the top agent of The Foundation for Global Relations. Half human and half demon-angel hybrid, she has never quite found anywhere to call her home. Within her facade of a benign field agent, she holds a greater secret: having allied herself with a deity in order to stop a race war from occuring between angels and demons, each led by their own patron gods, all in exchange for the chance enact revenge against someone who had wronged her.

In tow with her fellow agents Nalani Nocht and Kallista Krei, will she be able to stop this war? Furthermore, will she be able to break free of her own personal demons? Find out within Genocide Dogma.



After his mother is murdered, Daniel is left with only the coins in his pockets and his skill as an artist. With no reason to remain, he leaves home and follows the trail of a young witch and a missing girl into the glittering cities of the east.

At the heart of a corrupt and decadent court, a deadly conspiracy plays out. The missing girl is a noble pawn, and the witch is both tracker and weapon. Bound to her by loneliness and grief, Daniel must find his place as a forger in the house of a crime lord while navigating a maze of secrets that will topple thrones.

Here, loyalties lie, greed and treachery reign supreme, and love is a luxury afforded only to the lucky and the rich.

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