Demonic Dancing Novels & Stories

It was then I discovered he was in platoon five. Demola was a 'kegite' on the campus. You see the kegites every evening dancing, drumming, using local drums. They usually turn to Christian songs to sing theirs. They pervert Christian songs. They dance, sing and scream all over the place. They usually put a keg of palm wine - a local keg in the middle. They dance and drink palm wine cheering themselves. Demola was Lucifer, one of the topmost officers, in fact, the overall leader of the kegites. Meeting Demola, popularly known as Demoo by students but the Lucifer of their fellowship. I mean kegites fellowship, I saw them on campus as a nuisance. They make so much noise in singing perverted Chr

His roars of malevolence shook every nook and cranny of the Malevolent World. The murky crimson ink that painted the walls and floors of the arena dried as Damon the Prideful continued to dance with his ruby flames. A mindless weeps of sorrow shook the foundation of sanity within the Halfling prince. Drowning from his grievances, the immobile body of Maleficent the Glutton was safely tucked in his right wing.

Damon's eyes met mine, sparkling with a mix of mischief and longing. "I want to dance with you," I yelled and we found our way to the center of the dance floor, where bodies writhed and moved harmoniously. The music coursed through our veins, compelling us to sway, twist, and grind together. With every beat, Damon and I became entangled in a passionate dance, where our bodies communicated a language that transcended words. As our fervour reached its zenith, Damon's grip tightened around my waist. He pulled me discreetly to the edge of the pulsating chaos, his touch melting my inhibitions. In the hidden alcove, away from prying eyes, our breaths mingled in the charged air.

With a deep breath, I released a surge of demonic energy to cremate her, a ritualistic farewell to the fallen. The moment the demonic energy surged, an immense pressure gripped me from within. Pain coursed through my veins, and I couldn't contain the scream that tore from my throat. Beads of sweat dripped down my forehead as I grappled with the overwhelming force. Teeth clenched, I desperately tried to pull the unleashed energy back, to regain control.

"Come on, let's go dance!" Esme responded with a radiant grin, her voice lilting with whimsy as she said, “I know how to dance!” And with that, she began to move. Her dance was a mesmerizing blend of eroticism and grace, reminiscent of a ballet performed not on stage but within the confines of our imagination. It was as if she personified the sensual allure of a siren's call, and the men around us were powerless sailors drawn to her. They gathered in masses, transfixed, circling her as if she were indeed a siren perched upon a jagged rock, singing them toward an irresistible and enchanting doom.

It might be but that wasn’t a reason to spend it without honor. I slowly touched my wrist with a plain old dagger. No need for ceremonial knives here. My blood, black in the light of the moon, dripped onto the ground, and the candles set in the corners of the hexagram lit up in unison. And then I summoned them. Not with my words, or spells, or my voice, but with my demonic blood.

Pam asked, dancing slightly in place at my side. She fits well against my side. I chuckled softly. I might be a muscular big guy, but I’m still an incubus demon. I can dance. Dance is a form of seduction just as much as it expresses a million feelings depending on the music and situation. I won’t go perform on Broadway, but I manage to get by on the dance floor. Plus, if I needed the cash, I’d make it as a male stripper or in that Magic Mike show. “For you? Sure.” I winked, leading her to the dance floor.

She was dancing before the fire while holding a baby in her arms, a baby with abnormal features. “May Every Eye Upon Me Go Blind! May Every Tongue That Rises Against Me Fall! May Every Ill Intention Return To Sender!” As she spoke, the other two adults repeated the statement, who appeared to be the baby’s parents. However, they were neither sad nor angry. They seemed accept this demonic ritual as necessary. The old woman raised her arms, and exclaimed in a shrill voice, “Sacrifice the unbaptized child to the demons! ” Thorn observed a long, thin needle in her hands.

This was just another harsh way of inducing nightmares. “Are you having fun?” Alex, my roommate and personal bodyguard, shouted above the ongoing roar, tagging at my arm, a look of pure glee on her porcelain face. Why did I let her talk me into this? I could have been cuddled up in my bed covers crying over some sad movie right now. “If seeing people punching each other to each other to death is the definition of having fun, then I’m totally having fun,” I shouted back. “See? I knew you’d like it,” It was either my touch of sarcasm was lost on her or she was trying not to let me ruin the night for her. Either way, she was just being Alex.

CHAPTER 8 BLUE His grip around my throat tightened, and his gaze turned to pure darkness. I just stepped on an angry tiger’s tail it seems. "Say that again," he said, his voice a low growl that vibrated through my entire body. "I dare you." "That's what I do, Damien." I forced the words out, my voice strained against his grip. "I dance, strip and give them something to look at. It's my job." "Your job?" He laughed without humour. "Your job is to spread your legs for anyone with a few hundred dollars?"