Doll Dungeon Novels & Stories

All eyes turned to her, this strange pale woman with blood-red lips and glowing eyes. “Aldrian is not man. Nor wolf. He’s an abomination pulled from the underbelly of the ancient realms. He sacrificed his soul in a dark forest ritual. He’s bound to Florence, and through her, to the darkest dungeons sealed under the mortal crust.” “What dungeons?” Linna asked sharply. Kala’s gaze swept the hall, deadly and still. “The Dungeons of the Forgotten—sealed by the first Moon Queen millennia ago. The same dungeons that once housed the gods who defied balance. They’re opening.”

Continuing to her tummy, her magic intensifies as she pushes it through herself into Maribell’s baby. ‘We have in in the dungeons’ My mate tells me, I look at Denu “He is in the dungeons” Is all I say. “Good, he’s a piece of shit” is all Denu says before she walks over and asks Fallon if she needs anything. “Brew the elixir, the herbs are in my bag” She tells Denu. I hear a small whimper come from Maribell as Fallon's nose starts to bleed, a sign she has over stretched her magic.

He explained that the other warriors were out standing guard and would only come back for meals. I didn't see any dirt. The kitchen counters were spotless. I thought maybe I would be done in an hour or two. But kellan had called this place the dungeon. Where were the cells? The prisoners? My heart thumped harder when he stopped in front of a metallic elevator door. Numbers above the door indicated there were four levels underground. Instead of stepping inside, he turned right, toward a set of concrete stairs. As we went down one level, a stale, heavy odor hit me. I scrunched my nose, wondering if the air got worse on the lower floors.

He stands at the edge of the bed for a heartbeat, a silhouette carved from shadow and tension, his chest heaving slightly. The air between them cools rapidly, the sweat drying on their skins, and the heavy, musk-laden scent of bourbon and rough sex hangs stagnant and suffocating in the room. The headboard, still trembling from the violence of his thrusts, gives a final, weak creak.

He hesitated a moment longer, then exhaled through his nose and turned toward the heavy iron door set into the side of the building, keys already in hand. The dungeon was not a place I'd ever had reason to visit. Wild Bloomers reserved it for the worst of what the pack produced, traitors, deserters, men who'd sold secrets to rival territories or turned their teeth on their own during moments that mattered. The air changed the moment the door groaned open, thick and close, carrying the smell of old stone and something rotten underneath it, mildew and unwashed bodies and something else I didn't want to name. We descended narrow steps cut straight into rock, torches guttering low along the wall

But as I walked past, his eyes followed every step, warm enough to burn and cold enough to freeze at the same time. That was all the reaction he showed. And yet… it was more than I’d ever seen from him. The car ride was silent. Damien didn’t speak, and I didn’t have the courage to start. But when we arrived, I forgot how to breathe. It wasn’t a regular auction. It was a mafia playground. A long marble hall lit with golden sconces. Men in tailored suits, women dripping in diamonds. Armed guards standing like statues. Dark murals on the walls—roses choking skulls, thorned halos, painted suffering.

Drago led her to a covered deck, where the whole family was sitting, ready for breakfast. All around her were the usual suspects, Grigo, Marcu, and the mercenaries from the dungeon below the compound, who all nodded to her in respect. Madchen smiled at them, they never uttered a judgemental word against her when she enacted her frenzied revenge on Jason, they just stood back and let her have her moment.

Sometimes it went on through his entire shift. The Dungeon on Level 85 was often the last place a colleague could be traced before being outsourced. Dink had no desire to be outsourced. Dink closed his eyes and deliberated whether to forward the information to Shroud or wait for more supporting information to show up. It wasn’t a good idea to bother Shroud with trivia, if he was in a bad mood. He might have a coke hangover. He could be ferocious then. Everybody got fucked up in Deep 6. It was the only way to survive in this bleak hellhole.

Here, when I left the house, I saw what looked like a regular house and road and sidewalk just like what would be on earth, but Damien saw Hell as it truly was. He inhaled deeply and my head rose as his lungs inflated, he pursed his lips, “The soil outside is different than the kind you got from Kora, hers is from the earth, and the soil out front is the soil of the underworld, it’s not exactly known for its fertility – quite the opposite, really.”19 Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen a tree here until Kora’s private room. My eyebrows drew together and I looked back towards the window to get a glimpse of outside, not a single tree or bush.

I need to vent my anger on something or a special person in the dungeon. Someone, everyone thinks is dead!!