Demon Chicken Novels & Stories

He asked opening the second wine bottle and pouring a glass for each of us. “Exactly. Like I said, it’s painful. The soul, essentially, is pushed to the breaking point and when the magic can’t be controlled properly, it starts to rip itself apart.” I added, taking a bite of the chicken. “The demon I killed today was once a Mage. Usually, the color of the jewel corresponds to the eyes of the demon.” Mm. Lemon chicken. I grabbed the glass of wine and slammed it back. “But it's important to note that-” I went to reach for the bottle, and it was gone. Where’d it go? I just saw it! “No way. You slammed an entire bottle and that glass. You’re gonna make yourself sick, Kay.” Conor chided me. “Serio

I press my back to the wall, chest heaving, hair in my face, trying to remember when I last woke up to something that didn’t want to kill me, fuck me, or teach me a lesson. “Is this a test?” I demand. “No.” The answer is immediate. Boring. Final. I narrow my eyes. “Then why is there a demon chicken in my bedroom?” He finally pushes off the wall and crosses the room. Unhurried. Bare feet on stone. He doesn’t look at the rooster as it circles the room like it owns the place. He looks at me. “You sleep too long,” he says. “You miss the morning exchange.” “What exchange.”

He looked at me in shock and I could see the fear in his eyes when he looked at my arm. "Demon." I heard him say before running away from my room. I just asked why he seems to be scared. Who is the demon? Me? What is a demon by the way? Then when I got dressed I went out of the room and went to the kitchen, I saw a knife fall to the floor so I took it but I immediately let it go and closed my eyes because I saw something in my mind again. I saw the face of my mom and the girl with the horns again, mom was holding a knife and stabbed that girl with the horns, the girl did not know because she was sleeping.

The demon sat at a wooden stool beside the stovetop and oven. “Can I swallow him when he comes by, if he smells gratifying?” pleaded the demon to his old mistress. “I will– you won't– but that would make the hill dwellers suspicious and they'd be out with their spears and pitchforks before you know it,” said the witch in a low and raspy voice opening with her two bony hands the lid of a round wicker basket that could hold a dozen of alive, loud and boisterous chickens. The wicker basket wobbled rigorously and the alive chickens cackled.

And Thankfully she did because if not , then they would have been turned into 'Human Shish kebab ' . " And it can do that too " said Ron still continuing totally ignoring the fact that they just survived from becoming a demon bird's meal " Its feather converts into piercing arrows when it attacks " " Awesome ! Now if you are done with explaining how awesome that chicken's Exp is , can we move on to its weakness please and thank you ?" asked Chelsea as she furitively peeked from behind of the tree trunk , the deviuture was still looking around , shaking its feathery head here and there .

A swarm of demon bats flew over our heads. The thing about these demon bats is that they are not regular in size. They are about the size of a chihuahua, with razor sharp claws and fangs that could rip you to shreds. Screams of delight and protest from those who were observing us from outside the electric cage echoed in the air alongside the terrified screams of the children.

If I had known they worked for him, I would have listened to that faint voice in my head and ran hard and fast. I knew who he was before I arrived in this country. It was important that lone wolves like Hannah and I learned about the hierarchy of the most powerful packs and who not to cross. He came up on the top of the most feared. Not just in the supernatural world. He ruled the underground world too. A deadly combination of guns and claws. It was rumored that he ripped out hearts if a person just took the wrong breath in his direction. Carmine Moreno or as he was known across all factions— The Demon Wolf.

“Lights up. Audience seated. Let the Demon Games begin.” ‎My jaw dropped, only one thought running rampant in my mind. ‎“Daniel, Victoria get ready for my revenge." ‎ ‎

He knew that he had met his end. “Take him away!” Peter instructed. The special forces went to the basement with Greg. I followed. The moment the lift doors were opened, we smelt a strong chemical scent. It was not a warehouse. Instead, it was a luxurious and well-equipped lab. There were a lot of devices and blinking lights. On the rack next to the wall, there were a lot of test tubes. On one of the rows, there was a blue tag. It said: Angel’s Kiss. At the deepest corner of that lab, there was a heavy metal door.

Through the fogged glass—the silhouette of the chicken had evolved into something that far exceeded any definition of done. She opened the oven door. Stared. The expression on her face was identical to the day she’d discovered her most trusted informant was a double agent: disbelief, self-directed rage, and very deep resignation. The chicken had chosen an archaeological evolutionary path. Its skin was no longer brown. No longer dark. It had arrived at pure carbon. The smell was no longer food. It was a warning. She had just committed a crime against poultry. Dante’s footsteps sounded from the sitting room.