La Puerta Del Diablo Novels & Stories

In that humiliating life, Luz de Luna Plateada chose death. In hell, the judge of hell threw the notebook of human life and death to the ground, his gray face became more and more terrifying with anger, causing the messenger of hell to fear, tremble trembled, knelt down, and bowed to the judge of hell: “Who does he think he is? It's just a kid in the Dios del Sol mountain that dares to interfere in the affairs of hell." The judge of hell knows that if a person has run out of time to live and is still living in the human world, it means he has not completed his mission, so he must curse the two messengers of hell “I will go to heaven to denounce it, and that goddess too, what is her name?” Th

From up here, the city glowed like a wound—fires smoldering, broken glass glittering, and the cries of the desperate echoing into the dark. Behind her, Dante’s footsteps were measured, deliberate, like a predator stalking the silence. He had grown quieter in recent weeks, his rage contained but seething like a furnace beneath the surface. The attack two nights ago had proven what they both already knew: there was someone else moving pieces against them. Someone smarter, colder, and more patient than Lorenzo had ever been. Amara didn’t turn when Dante finally spoke. “They call him Il Diavolo,” Dante said, his voice like gravel. “The Devil. An old ghost. I thought he was buried years ago, but

Diana runs to rescue her as Gabriel gets a glass of water. Her lips turned pale. Barbie is catching her breath since Angelito now knows the truth behind his father's fall. "Angelito knows it already," Diana alleged. "You're correct. We must stop Angelito from going out of the Philippines with Denver. Don Pedro and Donya Lilia will go against Don Pablo when Angelito sings his poison." Moreover, Attorney Barbie left the premises without any options as he checked the new apartment. ….. The electronic door beeps, and Denver awaits Angelito to go inside. The Don fakes a smile at him.

said to transport souls out of hell. My last lead was him. I was waiting for the demon to show up while sitting at the counter with my hands surrounding my glass of unopened whiskey. Diego was standing next to me, and I was grateful for his support as he promised to assist me in my efforts to get Dimitri. I found some solace in his company during my search. After waiting for him for over an hour, we were mixed together in the pub. Valak hesitated as soon as he entered the tavern, scanning the faces of everyone inside. He sensed us. Before beginning to flee, his dark eyes glared at me. I jumped out of my chair and yelled, “Fuck!” as Diego and I eagerly followed him through the dimly lit stre

“You look perfect like this. My perfect mess.” I pulled back with a wet gasp, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “You’re—horrible.” He smirked. “And you’re trembling.” “Shut up,” I hissed, and took him back into my mouth before I could second-guess myself. This time, his breath broke. “Dio onnipotente.” (Almighty God.)

Hopefully there wasn’t another door that led out of the room. I was already running towards Alma when the inner room’s door flung open. A blonde woman appeared before us, rage evident in her features. “Clara,” Alma gasped as she turned to look at her. “Die, bitch. Fuck you!” the girl screamed. Pure hatred burned through her eyes as she pulled the trigger. Fuck. With every strength within me, I leapt forward, blocking the bullet with my body.

I stormed up the stone steps two at a time. My fingers wrapped around the metal handle. Click. I cocked my pistol. Then, I pushed the doors open. Gasps erupted. Heads turned. But I only looked at one person. Dante. He stood before the altar, stiff and devoid of emotions. A gun was aimed at his head by an older looking man. And it didn't take me much to identify the latter. El Diablo. That was the devil. Beside him, Seraphine smirked. My eyes narrowed. And all I saw in that moment was red.

For some reason unknown to me, Portuguese people had an unhealthy obsession with vampires. "No venga más cerca. Usted es el niño del diablo.” (Don't come any closer. You are the child of the devil.) She hissed. I stopped in my tracks. Dammit. "No sé lo que el su hablar." (I don't know what you're talking about) Jillie looked back and forth between the two of us. She seemed visibly confused. I gave her a small smile. I pulled my wallet out and took out three hundred dollars. I sat it on the closes table and grabbed Jillie's hand, pulling her backward.

ELIJAH The room was too quiet, that type of silence that hummed under the skin. My fingers hovered above the keyboard. He was the definition of stillness, but that kind of stillness that could snap at any second. His pen clicked once, twice, then stilled. The line on my screen blinked. Cristian Léon Marquez: requesting entry. I blinked too, half-hoping I was seeing wrong. He wasn't supposed to come up. Andrade had made it very clear.

I yelled in frustration. "Good girl," Leah smiled. "Easy for you to say!" I nudged her. "I'm the one going out to war with the devil," •••• I knocked on the wooden door of the devil's lair. "Come in," I heard his extremely stern words, spoken in a perfect Spanish accent. I took a deep breath. 'Okay, Aeliana! You can do this! I believe in you!' I turned the knob, feeling my heart pounding in my chest. I was prepared for the worst, just in case. The least he would do is curl me up into a ball and throw me out the window, so I'm assuming that the worst needs ample preparation.