Demon Of Song Soul นิยาย & เรื่องราว

H drawled, whipping his fingers in liquid motions. “Of—of course, Prince Haien, ” the demon gulped hard before falling cleanly on the floor with its mutated scaly feet. Damn, no wonder the room smelled of ammonia. The low-class demon actually resides in a sewer-like river of Hell. “I can always give you the soul of this man.” H lazily closed his eyes and basked on the aroma of the fresh blood around him. “How about both? That would be better.” While lifting his hand higher, he opened his eyes and a rush of color changed the heterochromatic ones to a solid, glowing red.

I would have had a problem with his tone if I didn’t know that he must be going crazy with worry and trying his best not to show it. “Sorens?” I called. “Yes my queen?” He said, not taking his eyes from the direction which the singing was taking place. “Do you know how to kill a Gurumapa?” “No. I don’t think anybody alive knows how to kill one.” I nodded at his words, my head already clearing and not being affected from the song this demon sang. “I think that we will have a wonderful time finding ways to prolong this demon death, we now have a legitimate reason to torture.” I grinned as Sorens looked at me in shock at my happiness.

“How is that possible?” “Demons are inky things, they have ruined soul. So, they are always on the lookout for souls to keep themselves alive. Demons crave whole souls, you know. That's the first indication you're dealing with one. He'd check your purity like a horse's teeth.” “How…?” Andrea began, but she stopped herself at the sight of her smile. “Never mind, if Dorcas is a demon, don't you think the council would know? Or detect his scent or something?"

- I couldn't resist. He chuckled. - If you wanted to drag me into your bed, I would have been there already. – I assumed. - So, my body does not interest you, then what do you want from me? - Soul. – Without hesitation for a second, the demon answered. What a twist…

“I thought I did, too, but who knows now. It could have been the demon we summoned for all we know.” “Which demon?” “Ammit,” he spat. “Eater of souls.” I had spent a fair amount of time studying up on demonology, and for the life of me, I could not think of why they would want to summon her. Demons could not lie, though. Only twist their words in such a way that the truth became miserably ambiguous. That being said, I was inclined to think it was the demon that had sought me out, not one of our friends. The comments the woman made about the weight of my soul tracked if it was Ammit. But, she called my soul light. Why would she come after my soul if it was light? She could only consume heavy

I kept my eyes on my shoes, wishing the sun would just finish setting so we could go back inside. “You know,” Jeremiah said, breaking the quiet. “There is an old story about this time of evening. They say dusk is when the demons come out.” I bit my lip to keep from rolling my eyes. I didn't think he was the type for ghost stories. I decided to play along just to keep the conversation moving. “Demons? What are they looking for?” I asked, stepping slightly closer to him as a shadow flickered in the trees. “They hunt for souls,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “They call out your name. They can mimic the voice of anyone you trust. A friend, a parent, or someone you love. If you answer th

The demon’s voice echoed through the city, ancient and contemptuous. “The Song will not be completed, girl. The Third Note belongs to the dark.” Evangeline stepped forward, flute trembling in her grip. “Then take it from me.” The demon surged but she didn’t run, she instead played. The final note rose, defiant and pure. Not high, but deep. Rooted. Earthbound. Like the rumble before a quake. The sound struck the demon mid-charge. It convulsed, spine snapping backward, mouth splitting open in a scream too large for its body. Veins of gold light ran through its skin before it exploded in a shockwave of dust and shrieking wind.

“You think demon’s don’t have souls.” He cocked his head. “Seeing what we are capable of, would you say otherwise?” As I chose my next words carefully, my fingers found their way into my hair. Sometimes the pulling wasn’t a conscious habit. If I were stressed, it just sort of happened. “No, I wouldn’t,” I agreed, tugging two strands free. “But there are different kinds of demons. My kind believes our Goddess pairs us with our perfect match—the missing half of our soul. She doesn’t make mistakes. The mate-bond wouldn’t have anything to attach to if you didn’t have a soul.”

Aesop shouted at one sexy and seductive female demon, “Sing your spectral song. The brass bell in this brat’s hand is very good and it can shock people’s hearts.” “Ah, ah, ah—!” The obedient sexy female demon started singing at once. ‘God d*mn it!’ Alex had never heard such an unpleasant sound. It was like two wire saws pulling on each other. It agitated the listeners and made them want to curse while stomping their feet. Not only the humans like the few of them felt so, those demons could not stand it either. Several big demons held their heads. “Listening to this sound gives me a headache! This must be the most unpleasant sound in the world.”

Such distinctions were irrelevant, for demons were once angels, and angels transcend human notions of gender. Belle's entire soul was engulfed by an overwhelming sense of dread as the demon's words echoed in her ears. Her fear was not merely for the terrifying entity before her but for the painful memories it unearthed. Her late mother, a woman of undeniable beauty, had lived a life of hardship as a prostitute.