I Sold My Soul To The Devil Novels & Stories

What exactly did he mean by my soul being sold to him? “You don't believe me. Your father sold your soul to me to pay his debt. I would say I am disappointed though. Sick as your sister may be, she is a stunning girl. What happened to you? How do I make money off you?” Realization flickered in my eyes. It didn't sting that he practically called me ugly. I was too stuck up on what he said just before. “You’re not lying. Sounds exactly like what Mr Nova would do. Anyway, I can't change anything right? So here I am. You have my soul. What do you need it for?” I shrugged, accepting my fate. His forehead wrinkled at once. It seemed like the self proclaimed devil did not see my response coming.

“A favor. That 's it. I don’t have anything in mind, yet. But when I do, I’ll call for you, you’ll answer me. No matter what. Otherwise, the deal is broken and you’ll get back to this shithole.” Mia breathed heavily. A favor? Get out of there? “Are you the Devil?” she asked. She still remembered some of the things her mother had told her. Mia shook her head, avoiding thinking too deeply about her mother. “Who cares? Does it matter?” “It does! I don’t want no deal with the Devil!” “You’re too picky, for someone who is about to become a worker in a brothel. Not only you, but your little doll of a sister.”

I asked, raising my brow in confusion. "yes.. yes..." She replied, looking excited. "huh..." I took a deep breath and then began, "I somehow wasn't able to go back to the other world, and my soul used to wander around, then one day, a man caught my soul and then made me his slave. He always made me do the evil things and that is how I turned into a devil from a simple wandering lost soul." I told her, flinching at those terrible memories. "Slave? were you happy to be his slave?" She asked such a stupid thing, really who becomes someone else's slaves happily and then kills dozens of people.

My nails rip at my holder's sleeve, but it only tightens the grip. Zeus steps closer, towering over me. "You’re quite the little firecracker, aren’t you? You’ll do nicely at the auction." "FUCK YOU." No, no, no, no. I know what happens at those auctions. I don't want to be one of those girls. The fear of being raped and tossed around like a doll flares through me. "Oh, yes, someone definitely will. You’ll be sold to the highest bidder. Consider it… a new chapter in your life."

I stood, brushed away an invisible lint from my shirt, and walked towards her. I crouched down in front of her and took a strand of her chestnut brown hair in my hand, playing with it. "Coraline, Coraline, Coraline, aren't you tired of calling me the same three words every day? You're starting to lack originality. Your material is old, stale, and honestly a little bit boring. Yes, I am a monster, I'm the devil, I'm a demon. I'm Satan. I'm your worst nightmare but what are you going to do about it?" She said nothing, frozen in place, horror filled her irides terror shook her shoulders. Realization finally sank in her bones, she had made a deal with me, she had sold her soul to the devil.

I had completely paralyzed him. A smile finally appeared on my lips as confidence began to return to me "How do you think I managed to escape from you? And why do you think I was with the Black Magic Devil in the first place?" His eyes narrowed more and more with every word I spoke, but I continued while grabbing whatever piece of cloth I could find on the floor to cover my body "He granted me the gifts of black magic... in exchange for surrendering myself to him for one night." I lifted my gaze directly to his before adding with deliberate coldness, "I sold myself to the Devil."

the auctioneer said, “is an asset with confirmed operational success in extraction, infiltration, and destabilization. Proven adaptability under extreme pressure. No confirmed employer. No official record. A ghost.” A pause. “Bidding will open at four million euros.” Ayla’s spine went rigid. She didn’t need to ask. She knew. They were selling her. The first bid came instantly—a curt nod from the two-fingered man. Then a languid raise of the paddle from the woman in silk. Another followed, this one from an unseen corner—paddle number nineteen—its holder hidden by the angle of the room. The numbers climbed. Five million. Six. Seven.

“Someone who forgot I don’t play nice.” “What the hell is this place?” He finally turned his head. “A front. They sell cars on paper, but that’s not what’s really happening here.” “And what’s really happening?” “Debt. Power. Trades.” My chest tightened. “People?” “Sometimes.” I stared at him, trying to read between the calmness on his face. He didn’t look proud of it. But he wasn’t ashamed either. “I don’t want to be part of this,” I said quietly.

I made a deal with the Devil. My soul, in exchange for seven days on earth after I died. The eleventh hour after my death happened to fall on our third wedding anniversary. The moment I walked through the door, he had just come home from another woman's place. He had an anniversary gift waiting for me. A set of sapphires. But the card tucked beside them bore another woman's name. I spotted a pale lavender hair tie in his hand. Once, I would have fought him over a hair tie like that, all the way from the front hall to the study. This time, I said nothing. It was him who froze instead, staring at me like I was a stranger. "You didn't used to be like this. I almost miss the way you used

"I don't deserve you being this understanding." "Maybe not." I managed something close to a smile, small and tired. "But I'm done spending my life waiting for the world to hand me what I deserve. I'd rather choose what I want instead." "And what do you want?" I looked at him for a long moment, this man who'd been called the Devil by everyone who thought they knew him, who was, underneath all of it, just as broken and just as desperate to fix what had been broken as I was.