Devil Realist Novels & Stories

No response and then I thought of calling him from his real self as I shouted loudly, "Devil, please show yourself." And BOOM Here he stood in front of me not as Oliver but in his real true self, He had turned black, his eyes were red, his body was huge now his two tongues hanging out from his mouth, and a thin stream of vomit seemed to appear in my throat at the disgusted and fearful view. I couldn't help but start inhaling deeply as the fear of him started clouding my heart again. He took predatory steps toward me and I stumbled backward, stammering from fear, “Don’t… Don’t… get close to me,”

Another acquaintance— a woman had widened her eyes in disbelief, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. “Seriously? He’s that good? No wonder he’s so handsome. Gosh, I would’ve volunteered to be his therapist… if I wasn’t so scared of him.” The first man had only shaken his head in disapproval. “Don’t let the pretty face fool you. Even the devil wears beauty to make you sin. Alaric is the devil.” And apparently, now he was the therapist to the devil. Adam knew they were probably exaggerating but he couldn’t help but be scared. And maybe that was why he hadn’t dared to wake Alaric up… afraid the man might actually paralyze him

They leech on innocence and other attributes of humanity and pollute a well-maintained system. But in the line of lost demons, in the shades of hopelessness, sometimes a person dangerous than the lurking Evil rise. The person whose heart has been ripped out and the soul is cracked, emerges from the flames. Oh, it’s not the phoenix that lights up to ward away the Evil and its parasites. He is born to become the real ringmaster. Such a person only gives up to show the Evil their most vulnerable side while hiding the dagger of vengeance laced with destruction in cover. When the right time comes, this person strikes successfully, dethroning the Evil and takes its place, becoming the ultimate dev

This was undoubtedly because of the image of the Devil who was in front of her. Right now he was ahead of Sarah while she was trudging after him. In the dark, his figure resembled that of a wolf, always so arrogant and always ready to prowl. At night, Devlin looked even more dangerous, she anxiously realised.

Valen moved in calm, measured steps, his mind as sharply honed as the physical routines that kept him in peak form. With long, graceful strokes, he swept back his raven-black hair, exposing high cheekbones, a chiseled jawline, and eyes that gleamed with an intense, unsettling allure. His movements were deliberate, precise, echoing the control he wielded over his realm. Every action, from dressing to the minor adjustments of his cuffs, embodied the silent power he commanded. As he adjusted his collar, a faint knock came at the door—a sound that few in the Devil’s City dared to make.

He wondered why his intel team hadn’t discovered anything about the killings. Looking at his bewildered expression Rendall explained further “Once I have killed someone, my team hacks into their digiwebs and keeps them alive digitally until it is safe to let them die.” “Do you have no conscience at all?” “If people walk into the trap laid by me, foolishly , is it my fault? I thought you were different. Bah! You are no better else would you have walked into the lion’s den?” He said menacingly placing his hands on Arnold’s shoulders.

I even gave a tiny snort. "I want you to get me a soul," he deadpanned and all traces of my initial mirth disappeared faster than it came. "Me?" Wait, what?! "You're honestly insane, are you even really here or this a dream?" "Does this look like a dream?" He whispered and his head snapped up to glare at me, I froze and stared into his black eyes and saw fire, the kind Christians claimed burned in hell and I cowered in fear of that powerful flame. I could hear voices of numerous people wailing about the suffering, they screamed and howled about how excruciating the pains were and I felt as though I had joined the multitude of voices perishing in there. Hell was real, everlasting suffering ex

Her countenance, typically an array of animated expressions, had transformed into a tranquil tableau of serenity. A soft, barely discernible smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he observed her. Even the devil himself, in all his cunning and might, would find himself disarmed before such a woman. She bore no regal lineage, possessed no grand narrative of her life. Her beauty was not the kind to inspire poets or artists, and her dubious occupation had seemingly secured her a spot in the inferno. Yet, there was an aura about Reina, a quality that was singular and extraordinary. She held the uncanny ability to perceive devils—two of them, to be exact. To the untrained eye, they were indis

He wasted no time in expressing his fury, his voice a thunderous growl. "Do any of you have any idea what you've brought upon us? Do you have any idea how much business alliances and trusted allies you al have cost me?" The room was paralyzed by his wrath, and none of us dared to meet his eyes. The tension was suffocating, and the fear that had gripped us was almost tangible. The man that stod before me looked nothing like the man I desperately used to crave. This one felt like the real devil, the same one the FBI painted a picture of to me. He didn’t even spare me a glance but i could rarely get the words out of my mouth.

The Director mask fit like a second skin. But somewhere behind it, the man still bled. And still wondered if the girl sleeping just down the hall would destroy him the way Isa’s ghost already had.