Demon Murmur Novels & Stories

Even with their combined efforts, in Alfred's opinion, the two of them could not defeat the monster. Dior was ready to start speaking when she abruptly sensed another life force in her surroundings. The alarm bell started ringing louder and louder. She had the impression that someone was observing her. Dior shifted her gaze to the side. Tap. Tap. The demon was moving across the water's surface, using the pieces of the surrounding space as bridges to connect his feet. The demon's body was emitting a massive amount of the purplish demonic aura. With each stride he took, the purple aura swelled in size, and the entire domain flickered.

She stood from the bed and started to pace the room, her blonde pigtails fanning out behind her. "Lately there's been weird demon-like activity around New York. Mortals going missing, bodies turning up days after, mangled and blood-stained. The mortal police think it's homicide, but we think it's not. It's definitely the work of a demon, presumably a Greater Demon, as far as our Sensors can tell. We also began to notice a weird but consistent demonic presence around a particular girl in New York" Cassie stopped to glance at Maddie, then continued pacing "We took your blood when you were asleep and tested it. You're not a full demon, Maddie. There's still a human aspect of you. What this mean

The demon met every blow with raw, abyssal strength, its claws leaving gouges in the stone walls as they traded hits that sounded like thunderclaps echoing through the hall. "Is that all you've got?" the demon hissed, its eyes glowing like embers as it swung a massive, shadow-cloaked fist. Kai ducked the blow, the wind from the strike ruffling his hair, and countered with a palm strike to the demon's chest that sent a shockwave rippling through the corridor. The demon staggered back, but only for a heartbeat before lunging forward with a guttural roar, its speed defying its massive size.

But what if there was something here that I didn’t want answering me? I stayed rooted to the spot, eyes fixed on a spot. Was I tripping? Losing my mind? My fingers trembled against the back of the chair, my breath shallow and uneven. The storm outside rumbled, masking the silence for a moment. I would have missed it if I wasn't listening intently. The voice sounded like what one would imagine a demon's voice to sound like. Hoarse and deep. Almost like a whisper carried on the rain. “You have nothing to fear…”

“Let me go! What are you doing?” “Feeding,” it whispered. Its face changed—skin split, eyes blackened, teeth too long. Erica screamed. The demon tore into her. Blood sprayed. Limbs hit the wall. An arm rolled across the floor. The heart monitor shrieked—then flatlined. Back at the nurse’s station, no one noticed. The monitor read steady. No alarms. No error. Just a perfect, calm rhythm. The next morning Chris jolted awake to his phone ringing. “Yes?”

Barely a muffle — the kind of sound that would be overlooked by anyone. But Deimon was on the edge of everything, and it detonated inside his ears like a war drum. His eyes snapped open. Red flashed in his irises and faded just as fast, his control catching it before it could take hold. His fingers curled around the stone rim of the bath. Who dared to disturb his recovery?

No, reaching inside the pentagram was forbidden. What if I poke him with a stick? He can’t just lie there in my tower, can he? I have enough problems on my plate without a dead demon! ** I was in agony. Every bit of my body that was still there was emanating with pain, even my tail. “Demon, are you alive? Demon! Damn you, you’re a rascal, not a demon!” It was clearly a girl’s voice. She seemed young and quite upset. She had a throaty contralto, clear and singsong, like hot chocolate.

He attached the demon to a life chamber, one of his ingenious creations that could sustain the life of a supernatural being regardless of injury, blood loss, or disease. He is beyond pissed at this point, as he has tried several methods to get the demon to speak, to no avail. Even after pulling out all ten finger nails, the demon refused to utter as much as a single word. The only sound that is heard from him is a sharp intake of breath at periodic intervals.

My Paps murmured, “Are you ready, Cals?” I nodded. “I’m ready.” The demon heard us. “Ready? Ready for what?” I grinned, the barest, brightest flash of teeth. “Ready to kill you.” Even as Old Tim trembled and whimpered, and the black fog thickened, the demon laughed. It chilled me, shuddering down my spine as though my flesh was being flayed from it. “If you kill me, I can’t help you with your little vampire problem. Oh – yes,” he paused, sounding breathless, as Tim’s body flexing inhumanly from side to side. “I watched the clan move into town. Wouldn’t you like to know who they are?”

he murmurs and steps closer to the left opening. A soft click echoes behind us. Damon freezes. He turns slowly. A small red light glows above the original door we entered through. It wasn’t there before. It blinks in a calm steady rhythm. Damon stares at it and I feel his mind racing. “That’s a trigger” he says. “Something is tied to it.” Another blink. Then a faint metallic sliding sound. Damon steps back instinctively and pulls me behind him again. “Ella get ready to run if I tell you to.”