Devil Realist Novels & Stories

Devil was bleeding from his nose and mouth and he knew that the usual yellow of his eyes had sunk into a crimson red. His voice was unusually sibilent as his demonic magic threatened to overtake him. “You have no idea what I’m going to do, my love,you don't know the real me, if I can break your bond with your soulmate I can do anything, I want you to be mine and always mine and no one going to take you away from me not even dead” he said before he released the angel and moved away, opening a magic circle. "Dean" Win saw a big man with red eyes come from shadow.

I made a puppy face while pleading to God looking up at the ceiling. "As if you don't need a psychiatrist now" Was it my hallucination or did The Almighty just replied to me?? I think I really need a psychiatrist! I was about to cry falling on my knees but then something struck my mind. Wait! He can't be God because that voice is awfully similar to someone I have come to detest in the past few days. I turned around to find the HIM standing there just a few inches away from me. I gasped and quickly took a few steps back creating a safe distance between him and me. HIM! The devil himself! The nightmare of my reality!

They start arguing in the middle of the conflict. Each of them averted their eyes and forgot the real enemy. “Ohh… then who? The victims themselves?” “No.. I mean, look at them!” “Then, if so, get out of here!” “I won’t leave this place!” The victim who had been pounced on by the Devil had completely entered his stomach. While Jane and Abelard were arguing with each other with their respective body language. The demon was in a somewhat chaotic shape like half human, half raw meat with a mouth in its stomach and other randomly located body parts and there were thorns all around its body.

If he does not see what faintly strides through the dark night. So he turns again. He does not come to full view. He watches the figure move like the zombies from the video game. It was how the Apocalypse begins. First, a single zombie is seen raiding the streets but just as humans think they had it under control, a pack would lash out of a corner, charging towards them. No! Don't think that. Zombies are not real.

Vivian said. "Exactly. You're right, and you know why?" I asked as moved closer to her. "That is because you're a devil and you're the last person that can ever get that, all you deserve is torture all throughout your life." I blurted out. "I know right, I deserve the most hellish torture, and I guess you're also wishing I roast in hell right?" She asked and laughed out in mockery. "What a fantasy!" She commented. "You know what? All of these things you imagine can happen in your delusions, and your fucking world of fantasy, but In real life none of what you think or imagine are ever going to happen." She said.

For all I know, I might even be the real devil cause if he exists, then he'd pobably be afraid of me too. No one knows what my real identity is, and perhaps, I might have forgotten myself. All I know now is that, I am Devil... I don't have a heart and I kill without remorse. I don't care who I am killing even if he is an innocent. But there isn't any innocent in my world, in this world of darkness... this world that we also call hell. I am devil because I live in a world of darkness. I breath the air of blood, crime, death and ruthlessness. I used to live in darkness but now, this darkness lives in me.

He cursed under his breath. At first prince Arthur couldn't take his eyes off the red ones peering at him, it was as if he has been glued to those flaming eyes, but that spell lost it effect on him the moment he heard another growl from the massive creature laying on the floor with an arrow stuck in his heart. ‘ isn't this what they call caught between the devil and the deep blue sea?, but then no matter how beautiful the sea might appear, the devil you know is far better.’ “Ahhhhhhhh"

Is he after someone? "Cole Falaguerra..." I whispered to myself. Looking at his picture, I can't help but remember someone who looks just like him. I don't know where I saw that person, though. All I know is that he's not the real 'Vanisher'. He's an impostor. “You know,” I muttered to myself, skimming through the pages like I’m really having a conversation with a different person. “for a guy who claims to be a notorious serial killer, your record’s pretty tame.”

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.

DANTE'S POV People call me the Devil of New York. They're not wrong. I've killed men for less than a dirty look. I've gutted rats who thought they could steal from me. I've fucked women who begged for mercy and made them beg for more pain instead. My empire runs on blood, loyalty, and fear. That's the only language this rotten world understands. And tonight, I reminded everyone of it. Crawford thought he could play me. Thought he could borrow money from my syndicate, promise returns, and then ghost like I'm some dumb fuck banker. No. You don't spit in my face and walk away.