Demon Sorcerers Novels & Stories

“Which way to the quarters that don’t have pixies or werewolves?” As a security officer nervously led him away, the rest of the team was left standing in the hall, staring at the spot where he had been. The air still felt colder. The chapter of their simple recruitment had just ended. A new one, filled with ancient demons, gray morality, and a boy who carried the weight of a paradox, had just begun. ---

“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

I took my regular route down to the archives and picked up right where I left off from the day before. From my previous search in trying to uncover all I could about ‘soul-snatchers’, I did happen to stumble upon a couple of passages that captured my attention. ‘Most dark creatures (i.e, demons, spirits, and specters) are attracted to large volumes of power and lively activity. Where they lack in soul and genuine moral decency, they seek to steal and take from others as a means to quench their undying hungers...’ “How pleasant,” I muttered to myself.

Mahisar stood at the forefront of the demon horde, surveying the battlefield with a cold, calculating eye. The enemy lines stretched ahead—vampires slashing through the shadows, witches hurling torrents of fire, wolves twisting and leaping through the chaos—but his army moved as one, a tide of claws, teeth, and dark magic surging forward under his command.

Silas's voice was edged with disbelief, as if grappling with the idea of supernatural forces at play. Ezra turned his attention to Lady Athena, his curiosity piqued. "What kind of curse are we dealing with, exactly?" Lady Athena's gaze held a mixture of solemnity and concern as she began to explain. "A demonic curse is a potent form of dark magic, woven in a way that links the victim to a malevolent entity, in this case, a demon. The victim becomes a conduit for the demon's influence, their emotions, thoughts, and even actions manipulated by the curse. It's a sinister form of control, and demons often utilize it to spread chaos and further their own agendas."

Despite the grandeur of the room, there was an unmistakable undercurrent of unease that even the ancient walls could not contain. El-Kharis sat at one end of the table, his posture rigid, eyes fixed on the other members of the Council. To his left sat Zareon, the Demon of Earth, his massive frame nearly blending with the stone of his chair. His presence was as immovable as the mountains he commanded. To El-Kharis's right was Azazel, the demoness whose allure was as dangerous as her cunning. She avoided El-Kharis's gaze, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

Instead of a young boy, a woman sat there with her eyes fixed firmly on me. “A demon!” I growled. Demons are creatures who feed on werewolves. Long ago, all the packs in the empire and beyond united to wipe them off the surface of the earth and had succeeded in doing that. “So, where did this one come from?” The spectators gasped and soon, the entire place became chaotic as everyone sought an escape route. Demons are extremely powerful creatures, more powerful than most Alphas. But I refuse to be in the number of those Alphas.