Holy Idol Novels & Stories

“I’ve already lost Mum. I’m not losing you too.” Gabe gritted his teeth, grabbed the hose nozzle, and shoved it toward the idol. “Ready?” Nick held the idol open. “Do it!” Gabe forced the hose head into the idol and twisted the release valve. A jet of water blasted out, and the idol began to glow—bright, blinding, pure. “Close the fucking halves!” Gabe shouted over the roar. Nick slammed the idol shut. A searing flash of light filled the gym. The piping shuddered and then collapsed. The ceiling cracked and caved in, and dust and debris fell all around.

She was the only person I couldn't get a reaction from. “She hates me,” I said, and Dad raised an eyebrow. “Can you blame her?” The question hit harder than I expected, and I looked away. “Wait…” I said, remembering something. Elizabeth would never agree to this, I am sure. “Does she even know about this?” “She does, and she would rather spend a lifetime with the devil,” Dad lips curved up slightly. “See? The feeling is mutual,” “She still agreed.” He said, and my amusement faded.

Naomi whispered, the weight of her mother’s words pressing down on her chest. Her mother gave a slow nod, her expression softening just a fraction. “I know you are curious about the world, That’s natural. But curiosity must not lead you astray. Never compromise yourself, Naomi. And remember honesty, truth, and faithfulness are your shields.” Naomi felt a pang of guilt. She knew she was about to break this rule, even if she tried to justify it. Her heart raced as she imagined Nick’s texts glowing on her phone, his compliments, and his charm.

Kyra is his obsession, his punishment, and his prey. Steven Blackwood doesn’t love he dominates, he torments, he claims. Resistance brings pain; surrender brings chaos. Trapped in his mansion, surrounded by fear, jealousy, and the shadowed eyes of those who serve him, she must navigate a world where innocence is weakness and temptation is unavoidable. Every moment in his grasp threatens to break her, and survival is not escape, it is submission to a man who bends desire and fear into a power only he understands. In the hands of a devil who refuses to be denied, she may lose everything…even herself.

“Those souls are consecrated—” “They belong to me now.” Isadora snapped her fingers. The woman flew backward into a pillar with a sickening crack. The vault creaked open. Inside: rows of silver flasks, glowing with trapped light. Pure celestial essence. Thousands of souls, bottled and bound. Isadora stepped inside with reverence, eyes shining. “My darlings,” she whispered. “Time to come home.” The ground trembled. “You will not leave with them,” came a deep voice—ancient, angry. One of the Elders had arrived, descending in a swirl of celestial gold. His wings unfolded, massive and brilliant, and his eyes burned with divine fire.

As the serviteur placed the chalice on the altar, he raised both his hands and said, Brothers and sisters Today, we celebrate For today, it is the most sacred day indeed. Our brothers and sisters will flock to our churches, our sacred altars to celebrate The holiest day for the Divine When the Moon has become aligned with the Star Pillars that surround Terra Australis Sanctum Day Today is also a day When the heretics and infidels Reconsider their lives Today we show them the right way of life. So that they may no longer defile our beliefs Let us show them. Let us deliver the light. “GO, GO, GO!” Cried an officer as soldiers ran to the beaches and into the ships as they try to escape the dead

Holly lifts him in the air again, “There is only one place we haven’t looked yet.” She flies to the biggest rock formation with the royal castle on it. The door of the castle is wide open and fear strikes into Holly’s heart. She hurries inside and finds the rooms trashed and burned. It must have been demons that came in here. They follow the trail of fire and claw marks all the way to the door that leads to the cellar. Holly screams when she gets a clear view of the door. On the door, a devil's symbol is drawn from blood and Magister Ember her limbs are nailed against it with her head on a spike in the middle. There is no sign of the demons or any other people. Zeus walks to the door and tou

” Attached was a photo, Jessica standing before a massive stone gate carved with the Henderson emblem, torchlight behind her. Olivia wiped her face, grabbed her coat, and whispered, “No more running.” The sanctuary was hidden deep in the mountains, past narrow roads and ancient forests. When Olivia arrived, hooded figures moved through the torchlight, chanting in low voices. Symbols covered the stone walls—interlocking H’s, the old Henderson insignia twisted into something new. Jessica stood at the altar, dressed in white again, her hands raised as if in worship. Olivia crept closer behind the columns, watching. The crowd murmured her named, Jessica Henderson, reborn.

His breath hit me first—stale alcohol and smoke—and then his grin, all yellowed teeth and amusement. “I’m not a princess,” I shot back, scowling. They both laughed. The sound stung more than it should have. Why couldn’t they just let me pass? I just wanted a damn drink. Then a voice came from behind me. “Let her pass.” Everything shifted instantly. The laughter died. The air changed. And just like that, they stepped aside like the Red Sea parting. My brows pulled together. Who the hell had that kind of power? I turned and my jaw nearly dropped. Because standing there was a Greek god in black, wrapped in sin and quiet authority.

“It has been two weeks since my last confession.” Sister Agnes kept her voice low and even. “Go on, child.” There was a long pause. The girl shifted on the hard kneeler. “I… I have been having impure thoughts,” she said at last. “About women.” Sister Agnes’s fingers tightened slightly around the rosary. “Thoughts of that kind are a serious matter. You must resist them.” “I tried,” the girl answered, voice trembling. “But they will not leave me. Especially… especially when I think of one particular Sister.”