Dark Demonic Art Novels & Stories

Demonica said and she closed her eyes and I see these certain dark scary woman showing as Demonica glitches as if she is in a video game. “Show me the darkness deep inside, let the darkness bring out everyone’s dark secrets and let the darkness devours everyone’s heart. Awesh agatarahem elohem ahenemo.” Demonica like a spell and the dark cloud starts to widen then disperses leaving some glittery shinning black dust that is thrown to everyone. “What is happening?” I utter in confusion as that glittery black us fall around everyone. I watch as everyone suddenly begins to struggle but then there is this dark aura starting to cover their body.

) Josephine: Okay students now that you have all settled down let us start. I have placed you in groups because we will be learning demonic arts based on your colors. Even though your colors may vary . Demonic arts follow one fundamental rule. INCANTATIONS. To cast an incantation you must have the minimum required spiritual strength . In other words you must at least be able to crack a low orb. Then the specific spell depending on your colors and spiritual control to cast your spell. Some spells cannot be cast by certain demons because of the difference in your colors. That is the basis of the demonic arts.

He clenched his fist and stepped a little closer towards the boulder, his booted feet making a depression on the black sand. The Encyclopedia of Demons or popularly known as the Dictionnaire Infernal is the book Marcus had found in the Vatican Archives that talked about the demon with blue and violet flames. It may not have given a fitting picture of what the hellish entity looked like, but it was able to provide enough information for him to use.

He remained perfectly still, his expression as unreadable as a mountain. “That isn't a mirror that reveals flaws, is it?” I challenged, my voice trembling with the aftereffects of the encounter. “No,” he admitted, his voice a low rumble. “It is an artifact of the Old World. Locked within its silver is a demonic entity—a minor underling of the God of the Underworld, reduced to a whisper meant to corrupt. They feed on your fears, Ersa. They don't just show you your darkness; they amplify it until it consumes you, leaving a hollow shell for them to possess.”

"Ready?" She nodded her head, and with our hands clasped together, we were sucked into limbo and ended up at the place where the battle was still ongoing. My eyes scanned the whole perimeter, and I could see my demons were in an advantageous position. Lucija had been doing a good job of decapitating most of them before they got totally burned, but like any demon, as long as their hearts were intact, their king could revive them to life. So they kept coming back. ‘If you kill a demon, you need to claw their hearts and crush them. Or Arturos can bring them back to life.’ I told her through our mind connection.

Swallowed whole by the darkness that awaited me in this demonic realm. "No!" I sobbed, but just as sorrow threatened to overwhelm me, a new presence emerged, a glimmer of light in the abyss. I sensed the familiar aura, the reassuring warmth of another, piggybacking on the demonic magic that bound me. With a surge of hope, I turned to look at the demon to see my steadfast ally, lunging through the darkness that had torn me from my world.

“And if I don’t try, that thing kills everybody. I inhaled and drew in all the silver light I could feel inside me, setting my hands on Sable's bloated belly. The contact burned. Light versus dark. Fire and ice. Oil and water. The pain streamed up my arms and into my chest, causing me to gasp. But I retained my grip, not releasing. I could sense everything through the connection. The spell Sable had cast, so intricate and bent, structured to deceive Cassian into believing that the child would be his. The dark arts she had used to sew the seed inside her flesh. And beneath it all, whatever had been drawn to that foul power like a moth to the flame. A demon. Or something very similar to one. I

All I knew was that if it had anything to do with that demon on the computer then this might be worse than I thought. “Okay,” she said in between her sobs, she continued in telling me about her dream, not leaving out a single detail. She told me about gashes that had appeared, how she had mumbled some sort of chant under her breath and how the demon had appeared. Abby cuddled in my arms and explained how it had disappeared after the symbol had been revealed. Even now she had thought that she had woken up and had seen it in the mirror and woke up in a start. “Then, I came straight down here, those eyes burning in my mind, to research everything on the computer. I found out that the beast is a

Elian pressed closer, spectral hands reaching uselessly, horror rooting him as the chamber dissolved into chaos—clashing steel, demonic roars, the infant's wail cutting through like a knife. It dawned on Damitri then, in that frozen instant, the witch's warnings he'd ignored: the entity he'd summoned wasn't ally or benefactor, but the Devil of the Abyss, binder of souls, weaver of curses that tainted bloodlines forever. The power he'd stolen now poisoned his legacy, birthing a thirst in his sons that the full moon would eternally ignite—a blood hunger that chained the wolf to infernal chains.

Granny Minama could see it in her granddaughter’s eyes—eyes now as black as the void, reflecting the demonic forces that sought to devour her soul. With a voice like thunder and the grace of a storm, Granny Minama begins the incantation, her words clashing against the dark forces swirling around Demika. The air thickens with tension, the shadows recoiling as if burned by the power of her spell. The room quakes under the weight of the ancient magic, the very walls groaning in protest. Inch by inch, the darkness releases its grip on Demika, the writhed shadows dissipating into the ether with a final, piercing shriek.