Black Phantoms Demons Souls Novels & Stories

⚠️ WARNING : Violent Content ⚠️ I REALLY NEED SUPPORT FROM ALL OF YOU, BY REVIEWING THIS STORY❤️ Stay sane and keep healthy 🌍 Let's cooperate with each other❤️ Happy reading 🤗 ***** Rhince looked at me with a worried look. He seemed to be worried about what would happen when I pointed my hand at Heather. Without further ado, I asked for the whip he was holding. Soul whip is one of the strongest demonic weapons belonging to the Vendoza clan which is capable of tearing souls. Not only the human soul, but the soul of any creature.

“However, the Fangs didn't manage to become stealth like the Reds had. In just one night, the spirits had appeared in the form of black angels. They were angry and refused to help the Fangs and, instead, allowed the essence of the realm of death to enter the souls of the Fangs people. “That essence darkened the poor men's blood, eroded their fangs and snatched away their speed on par with the Bats. They wake up in a state like ordinary people; black blood and does not have the privileges of the Red groups. Feeling ashamed and guilty, the Fang declared to the Order of Security that they could not help. The Reds comfort and mourn for them.

“You think demon’s don’t have souls.” He cocked his head. “Seeing what we are capable of, would you say otherwise?” As I chose my next words carefully, my fingers found their way into my hair. Sometimes the pulling wasn’t a conscious habit. If I were stressed, it just sort of happened. “No, I wouldn’t,” I agreed, tugging two strands free. “But there are different kinds of demons. My kind believes our Goddess pairs us with our perfect match—the missing half of our soul. She doesn’t make mistakes. The mate-bond wouldn’t have anything to attach to if you didn’t have a soul.”

The runes ignited, threads of light weaving up her arms and into the Mark. The air thickened. The ground trembled. And from the shadows at the edge of the room, something stirred — not an Echo, but something worse. Figures began to form — twisted silhouettes of men and beasts, remnants of those the Black Moon had touched. They moved like smoke and screamed like memory. Zevran’s blade flashed. “Here we go again.” He fought without hesitation, cutting through shadows that reformed as fast as he struck them. Each one that fell fed the light around Kaelira’s spell, fueling her strength.

I close my eyes and fall into a variation of my usual nightmare. It’s quiet, too quiet. The only sounds are the soft patters of mouse paws skirting across wooden floorboards. I’m in the old slave holding cell from my childhood but I am, as I am now, an adult. I’m in my assassin outfit. There are slaves all around me, but they are frozen in time. Their mouths are agape as if they are afraid and their eyes are empty as if they’ve lost the will to live. Their forms are distorted into odd postures, some with their legs bent over their heads or an arm bent backwards against the joint and up. They don’t have hair or distinguishable faces, and they all wear the same rags I remember from my childhoo

I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood. The door creaked, and Phantom strolled in with his trademark calm, though tonight he wasn’t wearing his pristine white suit. Instead, black clung to his frame, sharp as a blade. His smile was venomous. “Well, well,” Phantom drawled, circling Damon like a predator. “How the mighty have fallen. You’re not looking so sharp, Damon.” Damon lifted his head, spitting blood onto the floor. “Go to hell.” Phantom chuckled. “Oh, we’re already there.” His voice dropped, sharp with menace. “Where’s the flash drive?”

He nodded slowly, then laid the tile down next to the others. I looked at it. My unease grew, because it looked like a bullfrog crossed with a man. Oddly enough, it looked like . . . The creature from the Black Lagoon. “The ‘Other’ is Chiao, the Water Demon. According to legend he capsized boats, devoured men, and ravished women. He was . . . different from the Sacred Four.” I cleared my suddenly dry and tight throat. “How?” Mr. Trung tipped his head. “The Four exact a price for attempting to reach the Gateway, but they are sacred, honorable, bearing your essence away to be judged accordingly. Chiao is an Abomination. It consumes your very essence, making you part of it for all eternity.”

I said as I meet his eyes and I saw the glint of sadness and loneliness as he smiled at me and then turned around to gather his things. When he took his leave, I sat there looking at Cassidy, and for a moment, I let myself feel the familiar sadness and loneliness. Regretting my decision and wish that I could spend more days with Devon, as me, as Hannah, and not us someone else. Suddenly, I felt my heart aching, Lucy's heart seemed to stop beating. I grabbed the arms of the chair as I gasp for air. I breathe in deeply and I calmed for a bit. "Damn, this body is weak. I need to do something fast." I got my mom's phone from her purse and searched for possession of dead bodies. I was horrified b

he yelled as he stepped back, more corpses arising. “Ghouls,” Janshai said. “Ghouls?” Arth repeated, studying the ugly-looking corpses, having bone claws and razor teeth; long and sharp. Their height stood taller than any regular human, and their eyes glowed in blue light. “Est Immortuos … The Undead” Janshai added. “They’re the corpses that have been revived and controlled by a powerful Demonlord.” “They’re like zombies without flesh … only skeletal ones,” Arth said as he unsheathed his sword.

Relief washed through me as I shook my head. "No. What we believe about demons are wrong. They are called Daemons and they do not have the power to take souls," I explained. "They need a spell from a Sorceress to do that. But a Sorceress needs the amplifying power of a Daemon to take souls on such a mass scale. So, they used this symbiotic relationship to bring on this huge curse. Disguised as a sickness, it caused people to turn into a zombie like creature. Once that was done, they twisted the hunger into a soul feeding machine. Now they won't stop until all the souls are gone." I turned to Cynthia feeling the pain that she must be feeling knowing what had happened to her children.