Devil Angel Painting Novels & Stories

Half my men gone in one night, not because of weakness, but because of betrayal. “Any survivors?” I ask finally. Luca nods toward two men kneeling in the dirt, coughing. “Barely. They said the attackers were wearing masks. No insignia. Military precision.” I crouch beside a blackened wall, running my fingers over a metal panel. Something catches my eye, carved deep beneath the soot. A mark. A triangle split by a single line. My father’s symbol. The one he used for unofficial alliances, the kind he never recorded, the kind meant to vanish if he did.

I had figured that demons were more isolated creatures and it only made me more curious about them. The room was massive in a rectangular shape to fit the table and filled with numerous paintings and art, all different depictions of the underworld. Some had gore and torture painted, another one appeared to be of Adam and Eve and the serpent that convinced them to eat the forbidden fruit, the largest of the paintings was on the longest wall of the room and it looked to be of a war. Men with iron swords and shields clanging against each other and lightning bolts striking numerous fighters, the sight gave me goosebumps as I realized I was looking at a painting of Zeus and his brothers.

The inside of the house was dominated by red and shadowy lights, giving off the intimidating aura of the devils they were known for. The walls of the apartment were painted red. There was a skeleton head painted on the left side of the wall. Their name, Hell Devils, was also written boldly on every piece of furniture. There were some ominous symbols and grotesque sketches which adorned the wall, including one of a young boy covered in blood, and numbers written with blood. Some writings were written on the wall in Italian, and some drawings were beside the writings. Maddox and Jaxon were already inside when Drexton came in.

she asked inquisitively. “Devils Night is our favorite night of the year, a night of mischief. It started in Detroit but has spread so far beyond all of that. It is a night to celebrate being young and free, a night to have a little fun. I don’t see anything wrong with that.” she was hanging on my every word. It was all true but there was another reason for the name. Devil’s night was also Synestra’s birthday. “One final question, what do you think about the protests and people saying you somehow brainwash your fans with your music?” she asked and I could tell she thought this was a hard hitting question. I decided to have a little fun with her.

He turns the stairs wondering if Christian will run down to sit beside his now awake sister but after a few seconds he reclines more to the thought that he might be sleeping. He turns to them again and then nods to acknowledge Laurel as she gulps, nodding back…soft but acknowledging. He opts to sit beside Gabriel, now facing the family with a questionary eye. The devil and the healer. Feels like judgment day. “Hi, Laurel, do you know who I am?” he leans forward after getting a reassuring nod from Gabriel. Laurel nods.

The vampire was looking at the devil as if to a psychopath " well let's see how much more cuter my dear daughter can get" says the devil and got his wings out and started flying toward Celea

Iliana's tears fell on his skin and she begged him- but not for her own life, she was begging for Emanuels. Her bloodshot eyes locked on mine and she cried out, “Please help him!” A rough chuckle shook Darian's shoulders and he leaned down, inhaled a whiff of her scent, and smiled. “It’s funny you should ask her to help your mate when it was her father who taught me that little trick that will bring your death,” Wait what? My gasp echoed up the high walls and rested in the ears of the angels on the hand-painted ceiling. Whoever decided to paint angels in the devil's den was a true prankster with an equally twisted sense of humor as the king.

I swipe the lipstick across my mouth in one smooth stroke, meeting her eyes in the reflection of my compact mirror. "It’s like you’re.." "The devil?" I ask, snapping the mirror shut. "Maybe."

Wolves collided with the shadows of those wings, thrown across the room as blood and instant death erupted. Vivica froze, eyes wide, her chest rising as she watched the devil himself descend upon them. The dark blue aura surrounding him pressed against her burning skin, sending a thrill along her heated skin, and desire, through her. All the rumors about him turned out to be true. He was the Devil. The real Devil. Finn stepped forward deliberately, each movement slow, lethal, deliberate. He stopped just in front of her, the room now deathly silent except for the beat of her pulsing heat.

Next I answered to my comments, the thing that keep me working, other than Devil no one ever said any good comment about me. I took more sips of my coffee getting dressed for work, I was mostly dragging myself forward, my legs refused to lift up from the floor, I was a walking zombie, but work had to be done, I borrowed some of Devil’s make up, everything was a shade too dark for me, but she did have some lighter ones she bought to teach me on how to use them, I took advantage of that, I did some face painting, didn’t do a great job at it but I did try. I was dressed in my uniform, too lazy to change back and forth, if Devil doesn’t come back, I don’t know what I’ll do then, I should try and