Devil Vortex Saws Novels & Stories

Belzebub and Asmo were driving down the road, their van speeding along the winding highway. But without warning, the vehicle suddenly screeched and veered off the road, careening into the nearby woods. The two Devils struggled to regain control, but it was too late. The van crashed into the woods, leaving them shaken but unharmed. As they emerged from the wreckage, they saw that one of their tires was slashed, the rubber torn apart with a precision that seemed almost...sword-like. They exchanged a wary glance, their Devil instincts on high alert.

“Common for a woman, yet you made yourself worst with your attitude and foul words. Maybe I should just let you die, as your sin is falling worst into Envy’s clutches.” Pertaining towards the lady that’s unconscious and life is hanging by the trend of creating the demon of her sin of selfishness, mockery, high look for herself and into the pit of Envy. He once more clicks his tongue as the devil is getting aggressive by the moment. Dashing forth and fast, he waves his scythe as it caught the neck of the devil. Drawing a winning smile, yet a horrific one, he slices it quickly and perfectly, as the demon could not even process what just happen and immediately vanish into the night where its ve

The crushing, two-ton weight of his Abyssal Armor pinned him to the cavern floor. "I tried to stop a harvest," Ren rasped, his aquatic voice grinding like two stones. He locked his abyssal black eyes onto the Executioner. Valerius stepped forward. He didn't walk; he glided. The localized wind-Aether swirling around his boots pushed the toxic fog and damp air away, creating a frictionless sphere around his body. The monomolecular blades extending from his forearms hummed with a terrifying, high-frequency vibration designed to separate molecules at the sub-atomic level.

Obsidian cliffs rose like fangs, each echoing with the endless cries of the damned. Below, demons soared—winged monstrosities lashing the tortured with whips of bone and sinew. Blood ran like water in channels carved through black rock. We plunged deeper. A fortress rose from a lake of black fire—spires of rusted iron and sharpened obsidian twisted toward the sky. The Devil’s Keep. The heart of corruption. Through a broken window, we entered. Inside: firelit gloom, a forge of horror. Torture devices lined the walls. Hooks. Blades. Machines meant not to kill, but to unmake.

Draven appeared for exactly thirty-seven seconds. He dropped from a hovering drone like a shadow, twin blades already drawn. The first Vorathian lost its head in a clean arc, black ichor spraying in a wide fan across the deck. The second tried to shift forms, bones cracking and reforming into something larger, something ancient, before Draven drove a blade through its eye socket and twisted. The creature convulsed, limbs jerking in grotesque spasms, before collapsing in a heap of half-melted flesh. He stood over it for a single breath, expression unreadable, checking for movement that never came.

But what she didn’t know was that I could see right through her. “Liar!” I growled, every muscle in my face twitching with fury. I pulled out my favorite torture weapon from my pocket: the tri-edged knife. A wound from this knife was almost impossible to heal because of how it was shaped. Her eyes widened in horror when I twirled the knife between my fingers. “I am sure you know what this is, and what it does,” I said menacingly. I took a step closer to her and leaned in. Before I could say or do anything, she let out a sharp, piercing scream.

“So this is the new recruit.” Devon watched as he opened his bag and began to take out several pairs of scissors. The pressure in her chest increased. This was a nightmare. They were going to torture and kill her. Oh, god. Desperately sucking in air through her nose, she could feel her limbs grow numb and cold. Brad approached Devon and tugged on a lock of her hair. “It does seem a shame.” Four shrugged. “Father’s orders.” Brad picked up a pair of scissors. She squeezed her eyes shut in a vain attempt to block out the horror of whatever he was about to do. She could feel another tug on her hair. Then heard a snip.

Once she ran out of bullets, he got to let go of Bagwis who was almost dead from the strangling. A huge roar from Benitez was heard from the place again. And as he screamed, his body doubled in size, his skin stretched and bled of black blood especially his face. His eyes turned hell red and it burned. He was grotesque and all of them, Bodie, Manila, Van, and Luna, standing from the entrance door, felt their feet struck frozen to the ground. They witnessed a demon right before their eyes. "And who in hell are you?!" He said, his almost skin-less eyes bulging out of his skull from fury.

The wind that swept through Deira carried an omen: The devil had stirred, and the kingdom would soon tremble.