Demon Haunted World Book Mga Nobela at Kwento

We will send the demons back to where they belong, but first we will make them live in the torture we create for them. *** This is the end 😭 but there is more in Book 2, My Devil's side, which is seven years in the future and is the last and final book to this story. I will load it in this book as the next chapter so it all together. Thank you for taking this journey with my characters and I hope you enjoyed. I love all the comments and gems. I truly appreciate the support. I hope to see you in my next book 😚

Seconds later, Shandra is already a little better, drying her eyes and sniffling a little. "Pretend that never happened." The two men shrug. Doing a bit of suspense, the girl with fair skin and dark hair opens the box. Although they are stored in a dirty, dusty place, the two books look perfectly clean, although obviously aged. The smell of leather and old paper reaches the nostrils of all three, especially those of the demons. Sam picks up the two books, paying attention to the covers and their weight. Then he smiles grimly at Shandra. "Apparently, little witch, you are either blessed by the gods, or cursed by all the terrible beings in this world."

The words seemed to leap off the page, filling the room with an eerie sense of foreboding. Everything written in the book didn't make any sense to either Stella or Morgan. They found everything in the book quite absurd. The book spoke of witches, dragons, angels, vampires, and the devil. They didn't believe in such a thing at all, weren't they just fantasy? If they were to interpret it, it only meant that Grandma Elizabeth was a witch while the stranger guy whom Stella had picked from the streets the previous night was the devil.

“Nora, I don’t want you to freak out over this. As of right now, there is no information I have that can properly identify whatever that thing was.” “Do you think it will come back?” My heart grew heavy in my chest with uncertainty. “I don’t know. I hope I never come across it again,” I told her lightly. “Thank you for helping me find this.” Nodding her head, Nora left me to begin reading through the book. I sat down at one of the empty tables and began skimming through the pages. Most of which were in Latin, but many of the entries came with some great illustrations. Ogres, Nymphs, Warlocks, Incupi, Magicians...Demons.

The eerie silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity before someone nervously spoke up. "I've seen something like this in a book. If I'm not mistaken, this is a dark magic from Jordale called the Flying Head Demon. It's incredibly evil. It requires the blood of a living being to fuel it. Once perfected, it can make the head fly, crawl on walls, and kill without leaving a trace."

"Hold on tight. I'm taking off." "Wait, we'll die from the—" Before I could finish, everything spun around me. My stomach lurched, and I felt sick. It had to be heatstroke. My vision blurred, and I thought for sure I was about to die. I closed my eyes, bracing for the end. "What are you doing? Open your eyes!" Blazewing's voice rang in my ears. Slowly, I opened them. The whole world had changed. "Wh-where are we?"

Nyla’s POV I'm drawing a pentagram on my apartment floor with sidewalk chalk at midnight on a Tuesday because apparently this is what my life has come to. There’s a leather-bound book open beside me, old, as if it survived the Victorian era. I found it at an estate sale last weekend, buried under a box of porcelain cats, which feels like the universe burying a loaded gun inside a Build-A-Bear. It was quite an… interetsing book. The chapter I keep returning to shows a naked woman arched on her back on the floor, with a demon-man like being, with extra limbs, and an abnormally huge-sized cock burried inside her pussy.

“Wow. Five hundred years trapped in hell, and this is what I get? Not a dark sorcerer, not a twisted warlord, nope. A lightweight who can’t hold his liquor.” I sighed, dusting myself off. “Great. Just great.” I nudged the guy with my boot. No reaction. He reeked of cheap alcohol and desperation. Fantastic. This was my ticket out of hell? A sloppy human who probably thought N*****x counted as ritual research I crouched down, peering at his unconscious face. “Hey, champ. You realize you just summoned a demon, right? Step one is usually staying awake.” Still nothing. I flopped back on the floor with a dramatic groan. “Unbelievable. I survive centuries of torture, brimstone, and eternal screamin

Damien drove the rogue down, one knee in its chest, claws at its throat. “Say another word to her,” he growled, “and I will remove your tongue.” The rogue smiled up at him. “You cannot stop a door once it knows her blood.” The journal fluttered in my hand. Pages snapping hard enough to sting. Words appeared. THE HOLLOW CALLS WHAT THE HOUSE WAKES. My mouth went dry. “Damien.” “I’m busy.” “The haunted book has an update.” “Not ideal timing.” “Shockingly, the book did not ask.”

Clothes and shards of glass littered the ground. Four words were written in big, blood red letters on the wall in front; "I'm coming for you."