Novel & Cerita Dream About Devil Chasing Me

I am now unable to talk or make noise, or I will end up choking on my tongue. As I am carried off and thrown in the back seat of the truck, my world is spinning. There is no way for me to focus on anything. The last thing I see is the driver door open and the man who has haunted my dreams get in. His scars I couldn't notice in the dark basement are very clear in the light of the day, making him look like the devil.The second his eyes lock with mine, I know I am in trouble. He has a plan, and whatever that is it can't be good.

It’s like someone is watching me closely. Maybe it’s an illusion. I shrug my thought. The illusion which she thought was not just an illusion. The devil is watching her every move and every step she is taking. He is enjoying how his angel falls on his trap.

It seemed like I was a magnet and I always managed to attract trouble without trying so hard. The Image of the man with black gloves wouldn't let me, when I had the same dream again, he was wearing a black long coat and a black hat, yet his face was unclear to me. All I knew was that he scared me to death, it felt like I was staring at the devil himself. My body was stiff and shivering uncontrollably, whenever I thought of it, making me dizzy.

In a few seconds, he was towering over me, pressing a finger on my lips to threaten me, " Sshh! Watch before you speak, Princepessa. I am not your prince charming anymore. I am the devil who is here to suck your soul. If I made you just my fuck body, what will the world call my child? An illegitimate one? In no way, I was going to allow it. Get on the bed and wait for me. I want your back to remember because I really don't wish to kiss your poisonous lips ever which fed me lies for years."

, 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-

Her mother and father have always brought her different kinds of strange gifts whenever it was her birthday. She never understood why they would give her such. But, she always appreciated the gifts. However, she has always left with a turbulent spirit afterward. On her 18th birthday, her mother gave her a golden image of the supposed devil. It was so bright and beautiful that it lit up a room, the moment it came into contact with her. She was confused by this incident and she never found the answer as to why the image of the devil was given to her and why it lit up upon coming in contact with her.

"Or maybe it was the drunk truck driver, bitter at women ever since he got fired and divorced." My blood ran cold, and I couldn't draw enough air into my lungs. Santiago's eyes had gone pitch black, and for the first time in my life, I could see a monster when I looked at him. I began to fight, kicking and screaming and clawing at him. My fists made contact with his face and his sides. He rolled away from me before my knee could connect with his groin. I climbed to my feet and started to run again, pulling out my phone to dial Paul.

“Return to the world of men. Forget the blood. Forget the beast.” I reached for the obsidian stone. It was burning against my skin, but I didn’t pull away. I closed my eyes and stopped fighting the images. Instead, I dove into them. I didn’t look at the cellar as a prison; I looked at it as the place where I first felt the spark of the Devil. I didn’t look at the silver as pain; I looked at it as the price I paid to save my mate. I found the memory of Girard’s touch in the study—the way his hands had claimed me, the way his soul had recognized mine before his mind even knew my name.

Lucian’s note had come with a final line: “The devil doesn’t wear horns. He wears charm. Find his weakness.” Ayla exhaled slowly. She was no longer Ayla Monroe. Not here. Tonight, she was a ghost. Inside, the gala pulsed with orchestrated elegance. Women in gowns worth more than Ayla’s rent glided past men with blood-stained hands wrapped in Armani. Waiters floated by with champagne. It would’ve been beautiful if she didn’t know who half these people were — or what they’d done to get here. Lucian’s voice echoed in her mind: “Serrano traffics secrets. You’ll be one of them by midnight if you fail.”

”Nice flowers.” Wendy commended as soon as Rebecca entered the room. Rebecca on the other hand didn’t pay attention to what was said. She was lost in a world of her own thought. She didn’t see the face of the biker, but from the sound of his voice, she could tell who it was. It was a voice she would recognize anytime, any day. The voice of the devil who haunts her in her dream. A pat on the shoulder brought her back to reality. She jerked and the flower slipped from her hands, but Wendy caught it before it could fall to the floor.