16 Devil Novels & Stories

Taylor said, pressing his body against hers. Inner Devil and Guardian Angel turned Semi-Devil were holding hands, screaming: “Ahhhhh!” Inner Devil: “This isn’t sex, but it’s close enough!” Inner Devil: “It’s getting hot in here!” Guardian Angel turned Semi-Devil: “So hot!” Inner Devil: “So take off all your clothes.” Guardian Angel turned Semi-Devil: “I am gettin’ so hot, I wanna take my clothes off!” Inner Devil frowned, saying: “Please don’t.”

Taylor said, pressing his body against hers. Inner Devil and Guardian Angel turned Semi-Devil were holding hands, screaming: ‘Ahhhhh!’ Inner Devil: ‘This isn’t sex, but it’s close enough!’ Inner Devil: ‘It’s getting hot in here!’ Guardian Angel turned Semi-Devil: ‘So hot!’ Inner Devil: ‘So take off all your clothes.’ Guardian Angel turned Semi-Devil: ‘I am gettin’ so hot, I wanna take my clothes off!’ Inner Devil frowned, saying: ‘Please don’t.’

They were arrogant as heck. The Orlih (The devils) This clan composed of the devils, underground spirits, and their King, Lucifer. This group were the most dangerous because their powers were uncontrollable. The devils were able to control other shifters, and the humans through their eyes and they were all controlled by Lucifer. He was the second most powerful shifter after the Phetath. Lucifer and Phetath were, even more, stronger than the elders which made them the deadliest shifters to ever exist.

The devil spoke with a mocking tone, "My beautiful visitors, I think you were dying to see me. Now I’m here, but I was in the middle of something. I suppose I’ll have to finish it in front of you." With that, the devil lifted the barely conscious woman, preparing to deliver a fatal blow. Zack sprang into action, using all the strength he could muster to punch the devil. At the same time, Petra threw a knife-like device at the devil’s arm. This device, crafted by the Angels of the Burning Sun’s science tech team, had the power to break bones in ordinary humans. However, it only managed to scratch the devil slightly, though it was enough to make him release the woman.

' 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒊𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒂 𝒖𝒈𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓

"Hmm, yes, no matter who he is, he can't actually be a devil, right? Tanya asked back as she didn't know why Lydia was acting that way about the devil. "The devil, a man who came from the deepest part of hell, a man whose face as beautiful as that of adonis, his body cannot be more perfect, his voice as deep and enticing as an angels voice, but personality like the devil. His smile can freeze one's heart and may even cause the person to die. It is rumoured that those who had seen that sinister smile either had fallen into a tragic trauma or better still died tragically. The devil is no other than Alexander quinn.

He wasted no time in expressing his fury, his voice a thunderous growl. "Do any of you have any idea what you've brought upon us? Do you have any idea how much business alliances and trusted allies you al have cost me?" The room was paralyzed by his wrath, and none of us dared to meet his eyes. The tension was suffocating, and the fear that had gripped us was almost tangible. The man that stod before me looked nothing like the man I desperately used to crave. This one felt like the real devil, the same one the FBI painted a picture of to me. He didn’t even spare me a glance but i could rarely get the words out of my mouth.

She half-heartedly expected her prayer to work. Instead of the pain, she felt a warm liquid gush on her face. 'What?' She opened her eyes to see the man she had bumped into twice today. More importantly, he held the demon's head in his hand. "You kill...ed it." "Indeed." He responded, throwing her ID in front of her. "When praying to incur your wrath, you do not pray to either god, angels, or demons. You pray to the devil," he said as the moonlight shined upon white hair.

He looked at the young man, a very man of Denever who immediately recover from shock. “So the devil-” he gritted his teeth when he realize the glare coming from the woman who lecture him earlier. He laughed like a madman and stood highly, forgetting the reason of why he even here this moment. “Spotlight never failed to be reliable as ever,” he said, narrating a damn thing. “You, for sure has decide to show that despicable horns of yours, Coplete.”

Instead of the hollow sound of wood, I hear a soft click. A compartment opens. Inside lies a black notebook. Untitled, unmarked, just the initials V.M. etched in fading ink. Vittorio Moretti. I open it slowly. No dates. No numbers. Just a list of names, some crossed out, some circled. And beside one name, scrawled in darker ink, two words that make my stomach tighten: Blood Pact. I stare at it, my pulse steady but my hands clenched. Blood Pact. The term my father used for alliances sealed by death, promises that only ended when one party was buried.