Cupheads Devil Novels & Stories

The Black Devil was pleased to see Hades was so caught up in their sexy game, he didn't make a move to grab at it. The Black Devil kicked it away as he descended upon his obedient prey. He toyed with the paddle until he swung it wide and left a nice slap on Hades's ass. It wouldn't be the first. He gave Hades’s ass a good warming rub and did it again. "I see you are squirming, boy. Do you have something you crave? You want to ask me for?"

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.”

They saw him as nothing more than a poor boy who had lost his mother. And just like that, the sponsorship slot naturally fell into Timothy's hands. I skimmed through everything at a glance, my hands trembling uncontrollably. All along, I believed that Timothy only changed in his senior year of high school. I never imagined that this was who he truly was all along. He was a devil by nature. I submitted the materials to the police. I later heard that Timothy was arrested and sentenced to life imprisonment. Hearing that, I finally let out a breath I'd been holding.

“Too late. You already tried your luck with me.” I looked into his eyes—desperation, fear, and something pitifully like regret swimming beneath the surface. “You wanted to know why they call me the Mafia Devil,” I said, voice dr,opping to a whisper thick with menace. His nod was frantic. I smiled—a slow, cruel curve. “Do you get it now?” His eyes widened just before the cold barrel of my gun pressed against his temple. “I don’t do mercy,” I muttered. The shot echoed, final and unforgiving.

DANTE'S POV People call me the Devil of New York. They're not wrong. I've killed men for less than a dirty look. I've gutted rats who thought they could steal from me. I've fucked women who begged for mercy and made them beg for more pain instead. My empire runs on blood, loyalty, and fear. That's the only language this rotten world understands. And tonight, I reminded everyone of it. Crawford thought he could play me. Thought he could borrow money from my syndicate, promise returns, and then ghost like I'm some dumb fuck banker. No. You don't spit in my face and walk away.

My eyes stared out into the bright afternoon sunlight, watching with a racing mind as Stone walked calmly down the porch steps to meet the rival club. The new President of the Devils was a very tall, heavily scarred man with a dark, ugly tattoo of a bleeding devil stretching all the way across his thick neck. He sat casually on the leather seat of his custom chopper bike right at the very front of their tight riding formation, surrounded by ten of his enforcers. He looked absolutely furious, his eyes scanning our compound with a deep, burning hatred.

he asks while nodding toward Linch, one of the Soul-Eaters, who’s currently choking on David’s cock. “Fuck no,” I say, taking a huge gulp of my lukewarm beer. “Another,” I tell the bartender, Whiskey. The huge man lifts his chin and slides me a new bottle. “You need to get over that shit, man. Nothing’s better than the sweet feel of wet, tight pussy,” Devil grins, wiggling his eyebrows.

I shook my head to clear those weird thoughts and finally started eating. The rest of lunch and the day were strange because after a while in the cafeteria, the three boys disappeared. After that, we didn't see them again. And here I was, in the last hour of class, receiving the only class I didn't have with my friends: history. Five minutes were left before the class ended and we could leave. I couldn't count the seconds and minutes passing fast enough. I wasn't paying much attention to the class; the teacher was discussing something a classmate had mentioned, something about why he didn't talk about demonology and those things, as they were also stories. The teacher replied that this was a

"I keep my eyes on those I trust the most. Now tell me, where is the pen drive?" “I don't have the pen drive,” gasped the man, struggling to breathe. David sneered. “Oh, really? You're not very convincing, Parker.” With a swift motion, he punched the man in the face, causing blood to gush from his nose. Parker winced. “I swear, I don't have it,” he pleaded. David's eyes blazed with fury. “You think you can lie to me? I'm the Devil. Tell me where it is.”

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.