Garoto Infernal Novels & Stories

Lust answered. “Oh, and you getting caught in the middle of drinking from her by the preacher was no accident either.” Lucifer explained. “ He is also one of my angels.” Just then Preacher Garland walked up dressed like the preacher. “Daniel meet Greed, another one of the seven most deadly sins.” Lucifer continued. Daniel was in utter shock. “You have been there my entire life. You watched me and my brother grow.” Daniel cried. “I know, I was supposed to. It was my job to ensure the prophecy was fulfilled.” Greed replied.

Label The rain was falling as Lucifer peered out the window. He has not been able to get a guitar, due to pain in his arm. He was just stunned while waiting for the time for his class in General Psychology. Now he's just in the office. He could still watch her hands. "BRO!" Phoenix exclaimed as he just entered the Guidance office. "Your Honor?" When it laughs. "It's just stupid now." When Lucifer laughed and started drinking the C2.

This one question rang in his ears. "Stop it! please stop it." Satan yelled with his bloodshot eyes. He looked vulnerable. Satan dragged his numb limbs to the console table and drew out a small bottle. He then emptied the whole bottle in one gulp. After twenty minutes, Satan was back to his usual self, but the sweat from his agony and hatred was still there. "Life is a curse." Satan mumbled and slumped down on the cold floor with his eyes closed.

And then- His fingers twitched. "Dorian," she said sharply. His head snapped toward her. They both watched in horror as Garret's chest heaved once, twice, and then his mouth opened in a silent scream. The sound that followed was not human. A guttural voice echoed from deep within his body layered and distorted, as though multiple voices were speaking through one mouth. The language was ancient and jarring, the words not meant for mortal tongues. Seraphina stumbled back, a wave of nausea hitting her hard.

"Because I'm serious now!" Garo tore off his black robe, revealing a brown Venomsteel Plate underneath. It was crawling with many poisonous creatures. Everyone assumed Garo's strength lay in combat prowess. But as a witch doctor, his specialty was actually in curses and hexes. Close-quarter combat was, in actuality, his weakness. "Now this is my true power! Repent for your earlier disrespect! You've already missed your chance for a painless death!" Garo snapped his fingers, and immediately, dark clouds gathered in the sky.

The torches burned low in the dungeon that night, shadows crawling across the stone walls like restless ghosts. The screams from earlier had faded, leaving only silence, and the faint drip of water echoing from the ceiling. Garrett sat slumped against the iron pillar, his arms bound in silver chains that had already seared half-moon marks into his wrists. He looked different now, the proud and mighty Beta of the Dark Moon pack reduced to a bruised, hollow-eyed man. But there was still a dangerous glint in his stare. It was the glint of a wolf that refused to die quietly.

One bullet between his eyes. The pallet from the gun sparks with the arcane spell drafted on its surface. The purple electric current surges through his small body briefly. With the captain’s other hand, she holsters her sword and then his pistole. The three are now in the hallway in front of the cell. Gazes looming in the eyes of a half-alive Vetra. Vetra cannot speak or form such words from the drugs and toxins that correlate within her body. Garth looks at her and then turns his vision to the lifeless corpse. “You know, you disobeyed the rule of parlay, right captain?” A scoff breaches from the captain’s mouth. She looms over at Vetra and speaks in a humbled manner. “The piss cunt isn’t a

Azrathor carried his freshly marked sacrifice through the burning rift without ceremony. The abandoned chapel dissolved behind them as they plunged into the infernal realm. Elara’s body still leaked thick ropes of his molten cum, her belly slightly bloated, glowing runes pulsing across her skin. The faint reddish tint had deepened. Her nipples were now permanently dark crimson, her clit swollen and throbbing, and her hazel eyes flickered with hellfire.

Garam didn’t move as we pounded swiftly towards him. He stood at the far edge of the rooftop, robes billowing like wings, arms still folded across his chest, and his grin unwavering. Behind him, shadows coiled and thickened, growing taller and broader, forming the outline of a monstrous beast made of pure darkness. It was horned, fanged, with eyes like burning coals. “You think you can stop me?” Garam called out, his voice carrying over the storm. “You’re insects compared to me and I will crush you beneath my heel," he added, his grin dark.

It started with the man in the corner booth. Isla had seen him before—a grizzled man with a deep scar running down his cheek, his eyes cold and calculating. He was a known figure in the underworld, a rival to the DeLucas. His name was Marco Santoro, and his presence at Inferno wasn’t a good sign. She had no idea why he was here tonight, but the way he was eyeing her made her stomach churn. She tried to ignore the unsettling feeling in her chest as she made her way past his booth, only to feel a rough hand grab her wrist.