Demonic Obsessions Novels & Stories

That the Demonics' greatest gift or maybe favorite hobby, was to turn people insane. One touch… one swipe of a hand, and they made sanity disperse. Turning thoughts into nightmares and delusions. Daymares and horrors. Their deepest fears surround them until the only way out is for someone to take their own life. Haunting them and turning their reality into hell on earth. A twisted game that they would sit back and savor as their victim twisted themselves into oblivion and misery. It makes me shudder to think he has that ability too, and it sounds like he's used it before.

The monitors connected to Dominic's chest suddenly spiked into a frantic, erratic scream. "Get... your hands... off her." The words were raw, laced with a gravelly, primitive ferocity that turned the air in the garage completely freezing. Dominic’s heavy eyelids pulled open, his amber eyes bloodshot, dark, and utterly consumed by an unhinged, territorial madness. The sedatives meant to keep a normal man paralyzed for hours were entirely burned away by the sheer, blinding fire of his obsession.

demon:- I can not see sad people if other are sad, and I can not live suffocating for other happiness, so I prioritise what is good for me and my people, even if it means killing someone fraud someone, and even if mean to say silence or get suffered, I do anything good or bad, for me, not for god, not to show someone, not for making a good image in front of me, I do what is good for me and my people. name:- At first I think like that, but then when he took everything, I began to think it was because of my past karma so I suffered for god, no I want to have a good image in front of god, that was my mistake. demon:- if we work for others or god then where are we in it, then we nothing but hypo

I had confusion written all over my face as I waited for an answer. “Diablo is the person who shot at us, he is a mafia boss. His mafia is the strongest in the country and they have more power than we do. He's the worst kind of person on earth and when scum meets with power, that's a very terrible combination. The last thing you'd want to do is to get on his bad side, cause when you do he would make you regret it. And Saint has been on neutral grounds with him for years, I wonder what changed.” He says and with each word he said my face whitened. "That's Daniel.” I say, my voice barely a whisper as I stared in shock.

“He was a complete maniac.” The words fell out of my mouth like they were nothing, like they were just some passing detail, but they were everything. Cain—The Devil, as they called him—had torn my world apart. My father had seen nothing wrong with the man who wanted to take me away. The man who terrified me to my core. Who had seemed to know the darkness that lived within me, and wanted to possess it, own it. There was nothing normal about any of it.

It ruins the landscape. In fact, no, why put me down in this mishap? Why should I still feel guilty for asking you to erase what connects us? You told me that the two of us " would be forever." I now remain deaf to this form of blackmail. Yes, that's blackmail, Paul. What the hell did you imagine? That you could continue to own my body and soul until the end of time? You are very selfish, let me tell you. Are you only aware of my own desires? No, I am correcting myself—my absence of lust. When you approach me, I see myself as a little girl on a merry-go-round. My mother insisted, but I would die of vertigo. Your triple-digit perfumes can get sniffed through other nostrils.

Out back by the over"owing Dumpster, the stench of rotting gar- bage a strange aphrodisiac, or hidden in the dusty storeroom where the shadows danced like secrets. Sometimes, even in his truck, the rain drumming a frantic rhythm on the roof as he drove her wild. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling just hard enough to sting, his voice a low, guttural hum of need. She didn't know what drew them back together, again and again, like moths to a "ickering, dangerous "ame. Maybe it was that they both knew what it felt like to crave something, someone, they shouldn't. Or maybe it was the thrill of the secret, the intoxicating rush of danger that was its own kind of drug. A potent, addictive poiso