Insidious Devil Novels & Stories

But somehow, I always pictured a balding old man with a pot belly caused by the cheap whiskey he drowns himself in every night. But I couldn’t be more wrong. The devil isn’t horned or hideous. He’s tall, sculpted, and terrifyingly beautiful. Power clings to him like a second skin beneath the flawless cut of his suit. His face is sharp, symmetrical and too perfect to belong to someone mortal, too perfect for the blood he spills, too perfect for the cruelty he yields, and his icy blue eyes can bring even the bravest man to his knees. A cold prickling sensation erupts over my entire body like a thousand tiny needles stabbing my skin

“This young devil was idealistic, he wanted the ceaseless violence that seemed to dominate the world to stop, and he thought that the deviless could help with it. But the devil clan had one rule; never dabble in the affairs of the mortal world. They were merely there to reap the souls, not stop mortals from dying. Death is part of life. It's the order of things.” “The devil wanted to use the deviless to realize his ambition of uniting all the races of the world so death wouldn't happen by violence, but the deviless, no matter how fond she was of him, wouldn't agree to help him. This made the devil warrior mad. The love between them started to deteriorate as the devil got harsher in his insis

Killian Schmidt, she whispered in her heart, a name that dripped with darkness and despair. Flashes of the past flooded her mind as she recalled the first time she had laid eyes on him. The memory of his pale eyes sent shivers down her spine, revealing a darkness that seemed to penetrate straight into the depths of his soul. In that instant, he bore the resemblance of a true spawn of the devil, his mere presence exuding an aura of malevolence. It was as if he took pleasure in the suffering of others, revelling in their agony and humiliation. There was no trace of remorse or guilt in his gaze, just an eerie sense of pure amusement as he watched his victims, helpless and on their knees, desper

I kneed his crotch, my grip remained firm as I straightened him, pinning him against the door. " What you're doing Alex is improp—" Vernon didn't finish, I placed a bullet through his skull, his body crashed against the ground. Donovan's eyes grew wide, Jude staggered whilst Madden he tried to remain cold but I could see it, I could see the weakness in his eyes. " You all have three minutes to tell me where Ronwan is hiding or you'll all end up like Vernon," Madden's lips moved but no words came out. " Three..." " A cult!" Donovan yelled.

1000 years later It was in the middle of winter, in the year of the rabbit. Terrified screams filled the night air as the sky in the human world suddenly turned red, but this didn't last a second before it returned to its original form. Before the eyes of everyone a new star appeared beside a red star called the “ devil's star ” causing a great uproar. All these signs remain unknown to a group of people hiding somewhere in the palace of DeHaven. KINGDOM OF DEHAVEN.

She barely acknowledges him, except for the faint smile that brushes her face and immediately replaces it with a passive look. Laurel sits between them and all the while, she doesn't say a word. She is not oblivious of her surrounding, he knows it. Her face shows it all. He can sense the tension in the room. The expectancy. Maybe his subconscious already foresaw this and made sure he wears nothing other than black. A black suit, black T-shirt a black trouser and a red tie. He is the devil in this case. He can sense it. They don't hate him. They don't hate the extent he will take this to get answers. Not yet. Not until they see him questioning a family that is still in shock. A family current

A blinding, suffocating dark haze violently clouded his entire vision, entirely replacing the terrifying hyper-lucidity with a deeply lethal, highly toxic delirium. He violently collapsed completely backward entirely into the freezing, deep sludge. He didn't actively possess the microscopic strength to completely fight it anymore. The empire was entirely ashes. As the terrifying, freezing black sludge violently filled his actively bleeding mouth, the complete, absolute darkness finally, violently swallowed the legendary Devil of Dalal Street entirely whole.

He wouldn't dare tell Devon. Derrick ignored me as he continued blabbing on. " She hated you! Wanted to kill you! Do you what she always called you, a devil! You were the devil, Devon! " “That’s a lie!” Devon snapped. “Oh?” Derrick taunted. “Because I remember holding her while she cried about how much she hated you. Devil Devon! " “That is not true!” I shouted, my voice breaking. Derrick laughed. “Isn’t it? Then why did you try to forget your sorrows by sucking my dick?! "

I’d seen enough death for my mind to fill in the blanks. “We know it was The Devil, because of the name on the list?” I ask, shifting in my seat. Chels hums. And then she shoves something under my nose, a photo of something. I pluck it and bring it close to my face to be able to make out the blackened caricature of the devil. Two horns on a round face, a fork for tail. A shivered gasp leaves me. “The Devil’s calling card.” She nods. Only very proud killers stake their claims so proudly. All these while, The Devil hadn’t staked a claim to any of his kills. Not one.

After a few seconds of eye-to-eye battle, he still maintained his silence, leaving Don Basco with no choice but to break the deafening silence between them. “Am I right? What do you think? (Am I, right? What do you think?)” Don Basco questioned; his lips painted with the image of the devil's grin. Without Don Basco's knowledge, the real devil was the young man in front of him—a devil who is hiding in human flesh with an innocent face, waiting for the right moment to attack his enemy and make them feel what hell is like.