Devil's Kettle Deaths Novels & Stories

"If we destroy Heaven and kill them all—We're no better than God—or what he claimed us to be." It always came back to that dead Angels . Adom had never had the pleasure as God had been long dead by the time Adom had joined the fray. The Devil did, however, remember seeing the body strung up outside the gates of heaven , spells cast upon the corpse to keep it fresh and unmovable for centuries to come. A reminder to the Angels of what their own hubris had wrought.

Chapter thirty The silence was indeed necessary to the lads. Slowly, their gazes travelled along the corpses before them. It was almost difficult to get their feet through the river of bodies. "That little whore," Earl gasped under his breath while his hands gripped Jason to his side to support his steps. Lancaster soldiers lay dead with their bodies battered. The number was well over significant, and looking at them would prove the Scottish was in a disgusting mood. Unavoidably, The Duke looked out through a window deep in an aclove at the left of the hallway. It seemed the party was over. Well that wasn't the part that disturbed him.

"I've always thought fallen angels are like you and me, the fallen ones, of course, because the angels of light, I believe, are spirits. If the fallen ones are on Earth, why wouldn't they be human like us? Obviously, they have some powers." "You know what, Mark? That's okay, it's just as you say," the teacher cut him off from speaking further, although Mark seemed about to say something else, but then the bell rang. I breathed a sigh of relief. However, as I packed my things into my bag, I kept pondering the same question Mark had asked. Are those demons like us? Thinking about it, I felt my skin crawl. So, I dismissed the thought. As I walked out into the hallway, I bumped into Alessa and K

He looked at the young man, a very man of Denever who immediately recover from shock. “So the devil-” he gritted his teeth when he realize the glare coming from the woman who lecture him earlier. He laughed like a madman and stood highly, forgetting the reason of why he even here this moment. “Spotlight never failed to be reliable as ever,” he said, narrating a damn thing. “You, for sure has decide to show that despicable horns of yours, Coplete.”

I knew him better than he knew himself. There is a reason he is called the Devil. He knows well how to play that victim role and keep to his good name. I heaved, holding back the harsh words I was about to say to him. "Your mother approached me today at your father’s death anniversary. Do you know what she first said to me for someone who should be mourning…? I bit the tip of my lips to hold back the tears that were itching to fall. "There is no need to listen to anything that she says; don’t pay attention to them."

The subsequent investigation was a slow, excruciating ordeal for Connor. The medical examiner's report was detailed and chilling. "Ms. Sylvia Kline died from massive blood loss combined with silver poisoning. She had been dismembered while still alive, with clear signs of repeated cutting and probing on the wounds, indicating the perpetrator's intent to prolong her suffering. "She had severe tearing in her lower body, from which traces of semen from four different werewolves were extracted. Drag marks, approximately 25 feet long, stretched from the southeast corner of the warehouse to the entrance.

Only hunger. The file listed his crimes in stark columns—trafficking, extortion, executions of rivals carried out with public cruelty. Girls taken from villages, families erased, children sold. Every account made her stomach churn, her skin crawl with the crawling heat of rage. For a moment, the anger was stronger than the ache in her chest. But rage wasn’t enough to smother fear. Because the further she read, the more she understood. There were risk assessments, probabilities calculated with cold precision. Numbers that reduced her life expectancy into percentages on a page. The chance of success: low. The chance of survival: lower.

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.

“Because it wasn’t something that I would have thought of until I talked to someone about it in Europe. When he heard she had returned, he did a little research and learned that the time of her death was at the exact moment the eclipse was at its peak. It was only a few weeks ago that I found out.” Cyran started to chug a bottle of water, without closing the fridge. When he was finished, he grabbed another and did the same thing. He drank as if his life depended on it. My curiosity about what he has had to endure these last few months had me itching to ask, but I refrained. “Did anything turn up while you were out?” Kellan asked, obviously redirecting the conversation. “Only that there were

“Didn't he die too a day or two after you slept with him?” Kitty felt sick to the stomach thinking about all of this. “At least ten of the guys I've slept with died a few days after." She sighed. “What if all of my lovers are dead?" “Come on, don’t be dramatic,” Cheryl scoffed. “Give me some names, I’ll check them out,” Cheryl said as she opened the laptop and began googling news reports. Her face went serious as each name Kitty gave her a gruesome news article followed. She remembered seeing some of these faces on the news because they had been killed, but she thought nothing of it. But now, it was all strange that Kitty had fucked them all. They must have googled around seventy names.