Craft Stories I Wrote For The Devil Novels & Stories

“Of course he does. The Devil always does.” He blinked at her, unsure if she was joking. She leaned in slightly, adjusting the collar near his neck as she whispered, “Listen to me, cher garçon. The Devil cannot be understood, nor can he be coerced. You may think he loves, you may think he destroys, but really, it is all the same to him. It is all just… instinct.” Her eyes flicked toward Kain, who was now idly folding a page from one of his documents into neat, exact creases. “Keep your guard, mon ange. Always. You will be fine if you remember that.”

“After this, you are mine, Sweet little thing. You’ll not be able to run or escape me. Because no matter where you run to, even though I have to turn this world upside down, I will find you and bring you right back to my side because you are bound to me.” I laughed. “Trying to scare me?” He looked almost human to me at that moment. He was trying to save me from himself? I took the pen from him and signed a contract with the Devil. Grinning, I fired his words right back at him. “Sounds like foreplay,” It was surprisingly a sunny day when I later said yes to marrying Damon in sickness and in lies. He said yes too and for a moment I wondered how fitting it was that I wore the black dress. Perha

The creaking of the giant double doors sent a wave of fear through the chained-up man and gestured that it was a sign for him to stop what he was doing, but the fear quickly morphed into a burning rage. The doors swung open, revealing a man whose body is chiseled to perfection. His dark suit wrapped around his body, his green eyes devoid of emotion as he surveyed the scene. This was Lucien Belucci, the man known as the Devil’s Incarnate, the most infamous name in the mafia world dubbed devil’s incarnate for being cold, merciless, and having no regard for life. “I knew you’d betray me. Bastardo!” the chained-up man snarled in a thick Italian accent, the veins in his neck standing out in rage.

I sipped my cocktail and began, "So, as I was saying, Aryan dropped a bombshell on me today. He confessed to... well, something that sounds impossible. He said he's the devil." Jake raised an eyebrow and leaned in, intrigued. "The devil? Seriously? That's quite the revelation." I nodded, taking another sip of my drink. "I know, it sounds crazy. But he was so convincing. And he warned me to stay away from things I don't understand." Jake smirked, swirling his own colorful cocktail. "Well, you've definitely wandered into the mysterious and dangerous, haven't you? But let's not dwell on that for now. Tell me more about your day."

the man said and point his gun at me making me smirks. "it seems you don't know who iam,you shouldn't have took what is mine,am the devil himself,"I said and he instantly kneel down. "my lord,I didn't take anything from you,"he said shakingly. "you still have the mind to lie to myself,"I yelled. "am saying the truth,"he replied. "there is one thing which I hate the most is being lied to and also you shouldn't have taken what is mine,"I said and shot him brutally.

“And what do you have to lose, you already lost everything,” She gazed at me, “I have nothing to lose,” she muttered. “Why does it feel like I am about to make a deal with the son of the devil,” I chuckled. “Don’t be modest Elena, if we make this deal, you would be making it with the Devil himself,”

The thought sent a thrill through her. Annie looked around with a frown before looking up at the crow with a frown. The bird flew down, walking along the ground towards them. “Candy, Stolas wouldn’t happen to be a shifter as well?” “No he’s a, oh-” she said turning to look where Annie was looking, as his form shifted into the long legged, lithe man. “A demon. Well, a devil.” Stolas said as he stepped closer, straightening his shirt as he moved closer to the two women. “Hello, Annie.” His lips moved into a smile as he greeted her.

I wasn’t sure yet, but I wasn’t about to let my guard down. The thought of ‘Cain The Devil’ made my blood boil, memories of the things I’d survived flooding my mind. That name wasn't just a title—it was a legacy of suffering. The stories were true. Cain had been a ruthless monster, even by our kind’s standards. His methods of torture were beyond anything anyone could imagine—he was a sick, twisted man who enjoyed nothing more than seeing others suffer. He had impaled us—our kind—on sharpened stakes, hung us from the rafters like worthless pieces of meat, and let us squirm, watching in delight as we gasped for breath, feeling the life slowly slip away.

Mephiles looked up into the air to remember how it all began and how everything he has ever done led to this moment. For a long while, he stood upon the rampart and looked at every single star and the full moon. He looked up and looked back at his earlier days before he became a demon king. This is his story. This is his tale. This is how a man who sought ambition and a kingdom changed his life. A dark fantasy tale of the devil passing through the lands of the earth and the wolf hiding from the moon. The Devil and the Huntsman.

That the Devil has been contacting me all month long, gave me a deadly assignment to capture my friend's soul and now, he had turned me to a ghost. My life's story was just getting more ridiculous with each passing day. It sounded like it was a fictional tale even. The rows of market people continued to converse and soon I decided to sit on a stool right in front of one of the main stalls. It was of no use wandering around aimlessly around this unknown place.