Devilish Ghost Novels & Stories

***** ~Author’s POV~ “My, my, my…” Vesper purrs, blowing an air kiss. “My Sweet Possession. I knew you’d come to me.” Lucy glares at him, hatred burning in her eyes. He looks exactly as he did in her nightmares— Towering with broad-shoulders, eyes like pits of shadow, sharp canine teeth. Long, glowing fingers twitching with dark energy, his hair black as midnight. Vesper is the embodiment of a devil’s charm. He's beautiful, deadly and soulless.

The human wasn’t a human, but a Demon, luring his soul down to the pits of Hell. In the end, the ghost fell willingly into Hell, lured by beauty and desire. Conlaelth’s eyes drop to my lips for a brief moment before he leaves, and I’m left wondering if I’m the human or the ghost.

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.

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.

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

The way he checked behind him, just a glance, just a flick of his eyes, to make sure I was still there. He was covered in blood. He had cut off a man's head. He had killed and killed and killed and he had not stopped because stopping meant something might reach me. And then I remembered who he was. The Devil of Vercelli. A man so feared that criminals stepped aside when he walked in. A man with blood on his hands and darkness in his soul. A man who had bought me at an auction and called me a ward and told me not to settle into his house.

“A-Aurora… that bitch… she’s back! She’s alive! She called me… she said she came back from hell to haunt us! To haunt us for what we did! I saw her, Richard, I swear! A silhouette, right there in the doorway! She’s back! She’s back!” Her voice rose to a hysterical pitch as she shivered uncontrollably,scanning the shadows for a specter only she could see.

In a dimly lit room, tension hung heavy in the air as a trembling old man faced a mysterious figure. Fear etched deep lines on his weathered face as he mustered the courage to ask, "Who... are you?" With an air of chilling confidence, the enigmatic presence responded, "Calm down, old man. I'm not here to end your life. Allow me to introduce myself—I am Emine, the Devil Queen." She perched herself on the edge of the bed, toying mischievously with an object in her hands.

That devil seems to have multiple personalities. Duh?!

What horrifying apparition awaited us in this cursed valley? A chilling wind swept through the air, carrying with it the echoes of tormented whispers. Suddenly, a figure materialized before us, their form twisted and contorted, an embodiment of nightmares. I clutched Malachi's hand tighter, my voice trembling as I whispered, "What... what is that?" The figure grinned, revealing jagged teeth that glimmered with an unholy light. "I am your worst nightmare come to life," it rasped, its voice dripping with venomous delight. "Prepare to face the darkness within yourselves."