Devil's Tea Table Novels & Stories

The meeting hall deep within Lucifer’s palace had never been a place for soft words. Black stone walls rose into shadow, veined with the same slow burning crimson light that ran through most of the older structures in the capital. The great obsidian table reflected the faces gathered around it in distorted, blood tinted fragments. No servants stood along the walls tonight. No lesser attendants waited with wine or records. Only the high lords of the major clans occupied the long seats, and at the head of the table sat the Devil himself.

Each person controls a world leader, running the underworld and carefully maintaining the balance needed in such a world filled with human greed, death and destruction— willingly ready to be seen as the devils. Zayn Hellfire was not a Devil. He was Hell itself. “Tea, Don?” Giana places the cup in front of me, her milky gray eyes staring at me even though many cannot do the same. For she is blind. I don’t bother to give a response but she doesn’t wait for one as she places the cup and saucer down on the table. It’s Darjeeling tea, one of Eve’s favorites, but now I am no longer sure if she ever liked it.

With an expression as in saying 'Dinner is served' They dug in. The devil like Benjamin strode over to his table continuing his work that was interrupted. He couldn't help but think,think far and wide of the one and only soul that had saw his scar and still lived,somewhere deep,he hoped still lives.

The young woman thought of protesting, but she remembered in time that the being before her was a devil, the stories she remembered about them spoke as if a wounded ego turned them into horrendous and even more monstrous beings. "Say in creating this illusion that I will definitely laugh last at this joke." The devil smiled and the breeze from the seasonal coffee shop changed, not to something more summery, autumnal or wintery, it was simply like it was nothing coming from nowhere. But that was circling the table. Artemisia didn't think long before closing her eyes and just waiting for when she felt she should open them again.

Instead of throwing dances or drinking bears, they were mostly into drugs. Discomfort soon took over my soul. Swallowing hard, I asked a waiter about the client and he showed me a table. A middle aged man was sitting at the table. Two other brunettes were sitting on his lap, swaying their hips as they fed him a drink. I felt a little strange to be here. Why would Alexander want me to be here? For the sake of my job, I still dragged my feet on his table, forced a smile to greet the old man,

, Alex stated sternly. I felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest as I let one leg out and then another. I started to take deep breaths in and out, Alex noticed it because I could feel his arm around my waist, holding me steady. “Just look at me.”, Alex said. I looked at him and his eyes were glowing, I felt drawn to it, I felt calm. “Good girl.”, Alex whispered softly. Just then, we heard an explosion at our door, my body jerked in shock and I lost my balance, causing me to fall. Damn…maybe…this is where…my story end…maybe, this is the end…of…The Devil’s Thirst Trap-

The name is not Dustin, but Devlin this time, and a new desire below the name. “Remember at your highest moment, the devil makes his move,” the bartender whispers solemnly, forcing me to look back up, but he is nowhere in sight. Suddenly, an intense wave of fear washes over me and I stumble back as I look around. I’m not sure if it is the extreme intoxication, or if it is really happening in front of my eyes. The bar clears and I am left alone. The dim yellow lights change to blue, centred, making me the spotlight in a now dark room.

“Oh wow, come this way to the club house.” We both followed Cherry to the back of the club and up the stairs to the second floor. The club house reminded me of a very over lavish bachelor penthouse. As we walked through the door we were met by a small petite blonde, with light green blue eyes, and looking very sexy even for her size. “Hi Mr. Baphomet, Mr. Demogorgon, my name is Tequila and Angel will be right back with the cigarettes. So, are there any drinks that either of you would like to start off with this evening?”

She was tired in the face, "It's no big deal. I will clean it up.” She left and returned shortly with a mop and a cleaning bucket filled with soapy water. She soaked up the puke and wiped the floor clean. "You have to eat, Madam. You need strength,” Margaret explained as she wiped the floor. "I don't like the food,” I gagged, eyeing the plate on the table. "You have to eat, daredevil,” Valentine walked in with his hands in his pocket, striding in with calculated gait. "No, I don't want to.”

"You gave her that money willingly. Last I checked, you were practically celebrating. So happy about this." "Things changed." She changed them. "She's in my territory now, Dmitri. That's all that matters." A beat of silence. Then — "The devil is coming down to hell, gentlemen." His voice dropped away from the phone as he announced it to the room. "Brace yourselves." I ended the call. Good mood. Excellent, in fact. Time to let the beast out.