Demoníacas Novels & Stories

Like a specter, he weaved through the demon's blind spots, striking at its vulnerable joints with surgical precision. Each strike sent shockwaves of pain through the demon's body, threatening to unravel its very essence. As the battle reached its peak, the demon unleashed its most devastating attack. It reared back, drawing upon its immense power, and released a wave of infernal energy that rippled through the battlefield. The ground cracked, molten lava erupted, and dark clouds swirled overhead, heralding the unleashing of its wrath. Edna, Marcus, and Derek fought against the chaotic onslaught, their unity becoming their shield against the relentless assault.

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 light emanating from the Pentacle, the air was icy cold. Then the ground seemed to crack wider open like a glass and pouring through the shards came a horde of dark shapes, humanoid but twisted, gnarled and faceless, howling out a soundless scream that punctured the ears of the witch. It did not seem to affect Aosoth though. She cackled and her beetle-like eyes grew bright with a manic light as she raised her hands higher and the demons poured forth. Icy wind burned the witch as more humanoid demons came through the band of light within the Pentacle. The air stank of sulphur and ashes.

“According to Lucifer, demons have been disappearing from the lower rungs of the circles of hell. Most of them have the powers that the creature I killed several days ago and your…date.” Her expression blanks as she peruses the sheet. “I don’t know what most of these creatures are. What’s an incubus?” My lip quirks. “They are male lust demons. They can entice their prey and heighten sexual desire.” Her eyes snap up to mine, and all color drains from her face. “I think…I think my date…” she mutters distastefully. “…might have been an incubus. I mean, he touched me, and I felt…things.”

Suddenly, from the very center of the pentacle, a swirling mass of black smoke began to materialize, coalescing into a towering, amorphous form. This entity, devoid of any discernible features, exuded an aura of pure malevolence. Belle's heart raced as she took in the sight before her—this was her first encounter with a demon, a being she had scarcely believed could exist. Paralyzed with fear, she watched as the smoky figure loomed closer, its presence suffocating and terrifying.

That isn’t strange- it’s pure madness. Demons, being extremely strong supernatural beings, do not fall prey to mortal diseases like cancer. Their wounds are never infected, because they heal too fast to leave festering sores, and their immune system, or whatever demonic equivalent they have, is too powerful for the likes of sepsis or inflammation, not unless the injury is to their True Soul. However, they are not immune to afflictions of the mind and soul. So it is possible for a demon to succumb to madness, depression, schizophrenia and other curses, which may inadvertently affect them physically.

Demons- I thought- of lust, of desire. Now, don't roll your eyes. Desire demons take far too many forms to just say mine was a succubus thing- I didn't summon them just to get my rocks off. Lust demons are the deal makers, the insidious, the Djinn. They meet us humans at crossroads, grant us wishes, fulfil our dreams. They are exactly what you want them to be. Be careful what you wish for.

His cock leaked steadily onto the white linen, soaking through the embroidery. “Please… breed me… fill me… on the altar… make me yours… fuck the prayers out of me… please fuck my ass…” The demon roared, primal, victorious and slammed home with punishing force. His tail wrapped around Damien’s cock, stroking in time with the thrusts. The ridges battered Damien’s prostate relentlessly, milking it, forcing pre-cum to spurt in rhythmic jets that darkened the altar cloth. Damien’s chant dissolved into Latin gibberish, backwards fragments mixed with pleas and moans.

Byron cackled, his voice dripping with twisted delight. "Think you can run from it? These desires come from inside you, from your own body, your own heart. The Demonic Art reaches beyond death itself. There is no escaping it." He let out a cold, satisfied sneer. Suddenly, a massive cloud of black mist, threaded through with a sickly pink haze, exploded outward and blanketed the entire sky above the Umbral Peak Sect.

Clea was too shocked to say anything. "You're a descendant of the Goddess Fló. A sworn protector of this town and the towners. A witch that became a demon. Ohalo is awakening the formerly asleep demon energy in you." "Demon?!" Kali exclaimed again. Clea was shaken. She didn't even know what being a Demon meant. There was no way for her to believe it since she didn't even understand. No wonder. It was close to what Kali theorized;