Devil Realist Novels & Stories

Every enemy that came near her ended the same way: at Dante’s feet. Another wave of attackers surged through the gate. Dante barked an order in Italian, his men tightening formation. Gunfire roared again. The courtyard became a slaughterhouse, bodies falling faster than Emilia could count. Her breath came in short, ragged bursts. She pressed her forehead to the fountain’s edge, whispering to herself. “This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This can’t be real.” But it was. The Devil was real, and he was hers.

I said finally. “That’s not helpful.” “It’s the truth.” Hazel squinted at me. “Is he like… a criminal?” I let out a short laugh. “That’s one way to say it.” “So what’s the real way?” I stopped walking for a moment. Hazel stopped too. “The devil is a murderer,” I said simply. That made her blink. “Oh.” “Yeah.” She stared at me for a second longer like she was trying to figure out if I was joking.

“We will not spare those behind this attack. This won’t go unanswered.” “Do you think revenge is something we’re taught to delay?” Denis raised a brow. “We are Aiken’s men. We don’t retaliate—we eradicate.” His words were ice. And fire. The room shifted. Chests rose with fury. Heads nodded. “He will be avenged. In such a manner, history will write about the day they dared cross Aiken’s name,” Denis declared. Applause followed. But his face remained still. Then, he raised a hand and the room fell silent.

"Oh wow, I'm just a property to you? I'm just a toy you can play with? I don't have emotions? At first I thought maybe you were human with emotions but no, your a selfish, inconsiderate and evil human being, how can you kill someone and get not feel any remorse are you even human! How can someone be so cruel?" Vernon walked closer to her and raised her chin up with his index finger—he was quite taller than her so he had to lower his head. "I'm perfect aren't I?" ." His voice dropped, his eyes darkened, his smirk still as cold and bright as ever. She tried to wiggle out of his hold but it was pointless. "I warned you didn't I? If anyone takes what belongs to me, I kill them and your father wa

The timer on the screen read: 23:47. Claire’s muffled scream echoed through the speakers as the blade pressed closer, drawing a thin line of blood. Elena’s world narrowed to that single image. The man who had just killed for her, who had confessed his year-long obsession, now stood at her side as the real cost of their twisted union stared back at them in high definition. The devil’s contract had just claimed its first true casualty, and the night was far from over.

he said finally, his voice low, a whisper that sent shivers down her spine, “you will learn that ownership is absolute. And the sooner you accept it… the less painful it will be.” Her hands balled into fists. Anger and fear warred within her. “this place is worse than hell” she whispered, though even she could hear the uncertainty in her own voice. He stepped back, watching her, his expression unreadable, perfectly composed. “Hell?” he said softly. “that was just a reminder that you were owned by a devil, don't let me show you how I punish those who try to defy me. That is all. In time, Yesha Elaine, you will understand that obedience is safe… and that resistance is nothing but illusion.”

But somehow, I always pictured a balding old man with a pot belly caused by the cheap whiskey he drowns himself in every night. But I couldn’t be more wrong. The devil isn’t horned or hideous. He’s tall, sculpted, and terrifyingly beautiful. Power clings to him like a second skin beneath the flawless cut of his suit. His face is sharp, symmetrical and too perfect to belong to someone mortal, too perfect for the blood he spills, too perfect for the cruelty he yields, and his icy blue eyes can bring even the bravest man to his knees. A cold prickling sensation erupts over my entire body like a thousand tiny needles stabbing my skin

ISA POV DEVIL INCARNATION. The real devil with all the maliciousness he carried on his sleeves. ALEXANDER ALDERMEN was a true devil, living among the lowly humans, totally unaware that he was walking among us every day of our lives and breathing in the same air we did. There was no way any man with a castle of bones, flesh, and blood could be so barbaric, so diabolical that he would burn a human being on a stake with a blank, void of any feelings face, just watching with a satisfied smirk as the burned, smoldered sheets of skin dropped to the floor, leaving the former perfect skin so burned to a point where I could see a bone, blood sizzling and steaming all over the open vessels.

That devil seems to have multiple personalities. Duh?!